Headology 101
by Weatherwax
Summary: Hogwarts has a new class, and a new teacher. One that has travelled a very long way to teach it, a very long way indeed.
1. A New Term, A New Class

**Title:** _Headology 101_  
**Author:** Weatherwax**  
Part:** _Chapter One - A New Term, A New Class_**  
Rating:** PG**  
Disclaimer:** The following is a piece of Harry Potter/Discworld crossover fanfiction; all characters and locations are the copyrighted property of J.K. Rowling and Terry Pratchett and therefore this piece is not intended for public distribution or sale.**  
Genre:** General/Comedy**  
Summary:** Hogwarts has a new class and with it comes a new teacher, one that travelled a _very_ long way to teach it.**  
Author's Notes:** This will be my first multi-chaptered fic and at present I'm not entirely sure where I'm going to take it so bear with me, please.  
  
---  
  
Speeding through the English countryside was the Hogwarts Express, ferrying the current student body of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to a new term. The low-slung clouds hung grey and wet across the horizon, dappling the train windows with the occasional bout of early autumn rain. As the outside world went happily about its business, completely oblivious to the steam train passing close by, Hermione Granger, a sixth year pupil at Hogwarts was checking the compartments for her friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. After checking a couple of compartments she finally found her Gryffindor housemates.  
  
'Have you heard?' she asked, as she sat herself down opposite Harry and Ron. 'We have a new class this term.'  
  
'Yeah, got an owl about it the other day,' said Ron, fishing a folded piece of paper out of his trouser pocket. 'What is Headology anyway?' he said, reading the letter that had arrived at his house a few days earlier.  
  
'I've no idea,' said Hermione. 'But the reading list for it leaves something to be desired.'  
  
'Like what?' asked Harry.'Well, a reading list for one,' she said. 'There aren't any books on it all.'  
  
'You say that like it's a bad thing,' said Ron, leafing through his latest chocolate frog cards.  
  
'Honestly Ron,' said Hermione, rolling her eyes. 'I don't know how you made it this far with an attitude like that.'  
  
'I just don't believe in overdoing it,' smirked Ron.  
  
'In order to _overdo_ it you have to do something in the first place,' said Hermione sarcastically, causing Harry to stifle a laugh.  
  
'Good one Hermione,' said Ron, who was slightly surprised that she had cracked a joke. Even the famous witches and wizards that featured on Ron's chocolate frog cards were chuckling quietly to themselves.  
  
'Anyway,' said Hermione. 'My point is that how can we possibly prepare for a new class if there isn't a reading list?'  
  
'She's got a point Ron,' said Harry. 'We don't know what to read up on and we've no idea what to expect.'  
  
'Well I'd imagine that it had something to do with... You-Know-Who,' said Hermione rather hesitantly.  
  
'Oh you mean Voldemort,' said Harry flatly. To his irritation both Ron and Hermione shuddered at the mention of the Dark Lord but he decided not to say anything else about it. After all, they had not had to deal with him as many times as Harry, and while he knew all too well of the power that Lord Voldemort could wield whenever he thought of the Dark Lord these days all he could feel was blinding hot hatred. This was the man, if you could call him a man anymore, who had murdered Harry's parents all those years ago and was responsible for the deaths of many others, including Harry's godfather Sirius Black. Harry felt a lump creep its way into his throat as he thought about his recently departed godfather who had died at the hands of Voldemort's servants and he probably would have dwelled on Sirius' death had Ron not snapped him back to reality.  
  
'Did you hear me Harry?'  
  
'Hmm? What?' asked Harry, realising he had been daydreaming again.  
  
'I said get your robes on, we're nearly there.'  
  
'Oh, yeah right,' said Harry, shaking himself back into the present. He got his robes out of his trunk and pulled them on absentmindedly, his thoughts still lingering on Sirius' death.  
  
'You alright mate?' asked Ron.  
  
'What? Oh yeah, fine,' said Harry, straightening his glasses.  
  
'Well come on boys,' said Hermione. 'I'm dying to find out about this new class.'  
  
'She just never changes, does she?' sighed Ron.  
  
'Nope,' smiled Harry. 'Come on, lets go say hi to Hagrid.'  
  
---  
  
As the Hogwarts Express was pulling into the school grounds a mysterious figure was emerging from a modest thatched roof cottage somewhere far, far away. The figure reached up into the thatch above the front door and pulled out a broomstick, shaking the bristles free of loose strands of straw. Walking down the garden path, past several rose bushes, the front door opened once again and a much smaller, rounder figure trotted out into the night air after the broom-wielding individual.  
  
'It's a cold one for sure,' said the shorter, rounder figure. 'You sure you know what you're doing Esme?'  
  
'Stop fussing Gytha, of course I know what I'm doing.' Esmerelda Weatherwax, more commonly known as Granny, secured her goggles about her keen eyes and stamped her sturdy boots on the frozen Lancre ground. Thin, bony fingers gripped the broomstick but the one she had referred to as Gytha was still standing there with the same concerned look on her aged face.  
  
'What _is_ it Gytha?' snapped Granny Weatherwax.  
  
'It's just such a long way,' reasoned Gytha Ogg, who was known to most of the world as Nanny. 'You sure you know how to get there?'  
  
'Of course I'm bloody sure,' said Granny Weatherwax, quickly becoming tired of her friend's pesky questions. 'Do you think I'd even be going if I didn't know how to get there?'  
  
'I'm just worried about you, that's all Esme,' said Nanny Ogg, picking her words carefully.  
  
'Well don't,' huffed Granny. 'I'll be fine. Now are you going to let me take off or do you plan to keep me gassing all night?'  
  
'Sorry Esme,' said Nanny reproachfully. 'Have a god trip.' Their conversation was interrupted suddenly by the sound of rustling coming from the nearby rose bushes and emerging from the twigs and leaves came Greebo, Nanny Ogg's scarred, flea bitten vicious excuse for a cat. He strolled confidently towards the two witches and began twining himself in between Granny's feet, purring contently.  
  
'See, Greebo will miss you,' cooed Nanny. 'Won't you snookums?' Granny rolled her eyes and kicked irritably at Greebo, who meowed throatily and waddled over to Nanny for some sympathetic cuddles.  
  
'He won't miss my boot up his backside if he don't keep out of my rose bushes,' said Granny sharply. Nanny frowned slightly but was too busy comforting her disgruntled kitty to protest. She kissed and cuddled the foul smelling beast while Granny walked ahead a few paces in order to get a clear run. She nodded her goodbye to Nanny Ogg and shook her head slightly when the portly witch returned her goodbye by waving one of Greebo's haggard paws. Granny turned her attention to her broomstick and the stretch of path that was to be her makeshift runway. She started down the path at a run, her clunky boots resounding off the cold stone, and just as the broomstick started to lift she swung her leg over and rose shakily above the tree line. Back down on the ground Nanny Ogg watched her oldest friend disappear into the night sky.  
  
'Goodbye Esme,' she said. 'And good luck.'  
  
---  
  
Back at Hogwarts the word had already got around that there was to be a new class this term and the Great Hall was buzzing with anticipation as to what this class would entail and just as importantly, who would teach it. The Sorting ceremony had come and gone and all the first year students were now sitting with their respective houses but the new seat at the staff table had yet to be filled. If there had been any curiosity about this strange new class and its mysterious new teacher before then the fact that the empty seat was right next to Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore only served to pique this curiosity.  
  
The start of term feast was proceeding nicely though, new friends were being made and old friends were catching up on summer antics, but there was still no sign of the new teacher. The ceiling of the Great Hall was enchanted as usual to show the night sky outside but no one bar the first years paid it any notice, once the novelty wore off it became just another part of life at Hogwarts. However, when Harry glanced up at the staff table he noticed that Dumbledore was looking towards the ceiling more than his dinner plate. Harry followed the Headmaster's gaze but all he saw was the pale moon and rain filled night clouds, there was nothing that he would deem interesting enough to have Dumbledore staring as intently as he was. It was not long before Harry staring at the enchanted ceiling caught the attention of Ron and Hermione, who noticed the conversation had lost a member.  
  
'Harry, what you looking at?' asked Ron, looking about him to see if he had missed anything interesting.  
  
'What? Oh, nothing,' said Harry absentmindedly.  
  
'It can't be nothing,' said Hermione. 'You've been staring at the ceiling for a good couple of minutes.'  
  
'It's nothing really,' protested Harry. 'I just..._what was that_?' His attention was snapped abruptly back to the ceiling when a dark shape flew erratically across the sky. Harry instantly looked to the staff table to see if this was what Dumbledore had been watching out for but the Headmaster had already risen from his seat and was hastily making his way out of the Great Hall. His sudden departure caused a sharp increase in the volume of conversation, so much so that Professor McGonagall had to step in and restore order.  
  
'Quiet please, _quiet please_,' she said calmly but tartly. 'The Headmaster has merely stepped out for a moment; this should not cause such an unacceptable level of noise. Please continue with the feast.' The conversation died back down to its normal level and Professor McGonagall sat back down with the rest of the faculty but now the only topic that many people were discussing was where Dumbledore had gone.  
  
Dumbledore had in fact made his way to the main entrance of Hogwarts castle and was descending the stairs as the dark shape that Harry had seen circled the grounds. He stood at the bottom of the grassy slope and waved cheerily as the shape flew once more over the Forbidden Forest before heading towards the expansive Hogwarts lawn. The shape grew and grew until the dark of the night revealed it to be an elderly witch on a battered old broomstick. She landed unceremoniously on the slick grass, her boots digging deep gashes into the wet ground as she skidded to an uneasy halt. As soon as she had stopped moving she dismounted and shouldered her broom and began walking towards Dumbledore, who awaited her with a warm smile.  
  
'Ah Esmerelda, delightful to see you again,' he said brightly.  
  
'Albus,' nodded Granny Weatherwax, as she lent her broomstick against her hip and removed the goggles from her eyes.  
  
'Welcome to Hogwarts,' he said, gesturing to the main entrance. 'So, how was your trip?'  
  
'Fine,' said Granny Weatherwax. 'I think I buggered up your lawn though.'  
  
'Not to worry,' smiled Dumbledore. 'I'll have Hagrid attend to it in the morning. Shall we?' They started up the grassy slope and on into Hogwarts castle, leaving a pair of deep skid marks in the otherwise pristine lawn as evidence of Granny Weatherwax's arrival. When Dumbledore re-entered the Great Hall with Granny Weatherwax at his side all conversation dissolved in a matter of seconds and head after head turned to see the strange new addition to the staff table. For once Dumbledore did not have to call for quiet as he showed Granny to her seat and stood in front of his. He surveyed the Great Hall in silence for a second before finally speaking.  
  
'I am sure I do not need to tell you that these are dark days we are entering into. Lord Voldemort has returned to full strength and he is even now consolidating his followers. For what we do not yet know but we can be assured that it undoubtedly spells misfortune for the entire law abiding wizarding community.' Dumbledore paused for a second to once again survey the body of students under his care, he knew long ago that one day he would be making this speech but that did not make the task any easier.  
  
'It is up to all of us,' Dumbledore continued. 'To ensure the safety of ourselves and those around us, and now that the Ministry of Magic has finally acknowledged the return of the Dark Lord I can say with confidence that every available measure is being taken to prepare ourselves for whatever Lord Voldemort has planned.' A murmur of conversation rippled across the Great Hall before Dumbledore raised his hand for quiet. Silence once again gripped the students of Hogwarts as they awaited further information.  
  
'It is because of these dark times that I have ordered a new class be taught here at Hogwarts in conjuncture with your usual Defence Against The Dark Arts lessons. I am sure you have all seen the addition of Headology to this term's timetable, I feel what you will learn in this class will prove invaluable in the fight against dark forces. I therefore give you your new teacher for this class, Professor Weatherwax.' A fresh wave of mumbled conversation coursed its way through the students as Dumbledore gestured for Granny Weatherwax to take the floor. She stared hard at the Hogwarts Headmaster before rising stiffly.  
  
'_Professor_ Weatherwax?' she asked in a whisper.  
  
'Think of it as an honorary title,' smiled Dumbledore.  
  
'Hmm,' replied Granny tartly. Before her sat row upon row of fresh-faced youngsters all of who were looking at her in confusion and curiosity. She had not been prepared to make a speech on her first night in this strange place and she made a mental note to give Dumbledore an ear bending about it later. Nevertheless she had a job to do and she was going to do it right. She looked out across the sea of faces, choosing her words carefully.'Eat up, your dinner's getting cold. I'll see you all in class,' and with that she promptly sat back down. Not expecting the speech to be so short, Dumbledore was caught slightly off guard but he quickly regained his composure.'Err, thank you Professor,' he said, returning to his feet. 'Indeed, eat up, there is a full day of classes ahead of you tomorrow.'The students of Hogwarts went to bed that night wondering what their new class would entail and what kind of teacher Professor Weatherwax would be. Curiously enough, the kind of teacher she would be was also concerning Granny, she had never taught on this scale before and inside the privacy of her own mind she did admit to some trepidation. It was not a question of her teaching skills that were giving her cause for concern; she knew her stuff. It was whether she could put up with so many kids that she was worried about, how did Gytha do it?  
  
---  



	2. Professor Weatherwax

**Title:** _Headology 101_  
**Author:** Weatherwax**  
Part:** Chapter Two - Professor Weatherwax**  
Rating:** PG**  
Disclaimer:** The following is a piece of Harry Potter/Discworld crossover fanfiction; all characters and locations are the copyrighted property of J.K. Rowling and Terry Pratchett and therefore this piece is not intended for public distribution or sale.**  
Genre:** General/Comedy**  
Summary:** Professor Weatherwax gets to know her students and she most definitely leaves a big impression.**  
Author's Notes:** Warning for anyone who has yet to read _The Order of The Phoenix_, there is a piece of information in this chapter that relates to that book.---  
  
---  
  
After the start of term feast no student in Hogwarts could go anywhere without either overhearing a conversation about Professor Weatherwax or engaging in one themselves. The second year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were the first class to take Headology and no sooner had they stepped out of the classroom the questions began to fly from all corners. Everyone wanted to know what this new class was like and more importantly what their new teacher was like.  
  
'Is she nice?'  
  
'Is she horrible?'  
  
'Did she give you any homework?'  
  
These are just a few examples of the kind of questions that bombarded any student who had taken Headology in the first week of term, and it was not until the Thursday morning class that the sixth year Gryffindors got to meet Professor Weatherwax. The only problem was, as far as the Gryffindors saw it, was that they had to take the class with the Slytherins. Sharing a class with Slytherin House had never been an enjoyable experience from the Gryffindor point of view but since the return of Lord Voldemort certain Slytherins had become an intolerable pain, led as always by Draco Malfoy. Draco was obnoxious enough when his father Lucius had oiled his way on to the board of directors at Hogwarts, but now the Dark Lord had returned to power he was an absolute nightmare. Convinced that he was effectively untouchable at school, Draco and his cronies loved nothing more than to make trouble and one of their prime targets was and always had been Harry Potter.  
  
So it was with a mixture of curiosity and concern that the sixth year Gryffindor class made their way down to Headology on the first Thursday morning of term. Curiosity because like the entire student populace they wanted to know what this new class and its new teacher were about, and concern because they knew the Slytherins, particularly Draco and his mob, would find some way to make trouble. This was the discussion that Harry, Ron and Hermione were having as they filed into the classroom.  
  
'Well I feel a bit sorry her to be honest,' said Ron, as he slung his bag down on to the table.  
  
'Why is that?' asked Hermione.  
  
''Cos,' shrugged Ron. 'She's new.'  
  
'What's your point?' she frowned.  
  
'Well you know what some people are like, she's bound to get a hard time.'  
  
'From who?' asked Hermione, wondering where Ron was going with this. Then, as if on cue Draco Malfoy swaggered into the room, followed closely by his two apelike associates Crabbe and Goyle. Ron looked at them briefly before turning back to Hermione. 'Oh,' she said, in realisation.  
  
'Yeah,' said Ron, crossing his arms on the desk and laying his chin on his forearm. 'I'm sure that slimy git will make this lesson as fun as possible.'  
  
'Come on Ron,' said Hermione. 'We're at N.E.W.T. level now, don't think you think people will have grown out of childish stuff like that?' Again, as if given his cue by some unseen director, Malfoy completely floored Hermione's attempt at reason.  
  
'Oi, Potter,' he called derisively from the back of the classroom. 'Haven't you figured out a spell to get yourself some decent friends yet?' A chorus of approving sniggers ran through the Slytherins as Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. Her expression quickly changed though, and she plastered a sweet smile on her face before turning in her chair to face Malfoy.  
  
'Well, I'm glad to see your father being a wanted Death Eater hasn't affected your sense of humour Malfoy.' At this the sniggering abruptly stopped and the superior smirk was wiped clean from Malfoy's face, being replaced instead by a malicious scowl.  
  
'Watch it Granger,' he said menacingly.  
  
'Or?' she cooed, sweetly. As Malfoy opened his mouth, no doubt ready to insult Hermione as nastily as he could, Professor Weatherwax walked briskly into the room. Malfoy continued to scowl as Hermione gave him one last triumphant look before turning her attention to the class that was about to start. Both Harry and Ron smiled appreciatively at her as their new teacher settled herself behind her new desk.  
  
'Sorry I'm late class,' she said. 'This castle's a bugger to get around.' A few stifled laughs could be heard here and there and Ron leaned in slightly towards Harry.  
  
'Oh, I like her,' he said, grinning.  
  
'You, the red headed lad,' said Professor Weatherwax shortly. 'What's your name?'  
  
'Err...Ron Weasley, Professor,' said Ron sheepishly.  
  
'Well Ron Weasley, whether you like me or not I don't want you talking in my class, understand?'  
  
'Yes Professor,' answered Ron glumly.  
  
'You'll have to watch out for those Weasleys,' sneered Malfoy. 'They're always causing trouble.' Once again the Slytherin crowd met Malfoy's snide remark with appreciative sniggering but Professor Weatherwax did not seem as pleased. She stepped out from behind her desk and strode right up to Malfoy, fixing him with a keen gaze.  
  
'And who might you be?' she asked plainly.  
  
'Draco Malfoy,' he said defiantly, putting quite unnecessary emphasis on both words.  
  
'Give me your hands,' demanded the professor.  
  
'What?' he asked, almost in disbelief.  
  
'I said give me your hands,' she repeated. Slowly and uncertainly, Malfoy brought his hands up on to his desk and as soon as they were within view Professor Weatherwax grabbed them with her long, thin fingers._  
  
'What are you doing?'_ he shrieked, trying to pull his hands free. Her grip was strong and her expression unchanged, she turned his hands over to look at them and after a few seconds she let them go. Malfoy was pulling back so hard that he almost fell off his chair when she let him go and as soon as he regained his composure he looked up at her with indignant fury in his eyes.  
  
'What was that about?' he asked, sounding as put out as he could while still remembering he was talking to a teacher.  
  
'Your hands are as soft as a babbie's backside,' she said matter-of-factly. 'Come from a rich family, do you?'  
  
'I'm a Malfoy!' he said pompously.  
  
'Well la-de-da,' said Professor Weatherwax, clearly not impressed. 'I've run into your type many times before. Spoilt little rich boys who think they own the place, well that ain't going to wash in my class, you hear me?' The whole room had fallen deathly silent, Professor Weatherwax and Malfoy continued to stare at each other until her unwavering stare became too much for him and he cast his eyes away. Satisfied that she had made her point the professor made her way back to her desk so she could continue her lesson.  
  
'My father will hear of this,' said Malfoy, low and venomous.  
  
'I bloody hope so,' said Professor Weatherwax, not turning round from the blackboard. 'Maybe he can teach you some manners.' After writing the name of the class on the board she turned around and clasped her hands in front of her. 'Right, you all know my name, I'm Professor Weatherwax and I'm here to teach you Headology. I've been told some dark wizard fellow has come back from the dead or something and he's causing all sorts of bother, so Headmaster Dumbledore wrote to me and asked if I'd help the cause as it were by teaching this class.' Some of the class shifted uneasily in their seats at the mention of Lord Voldemort, even if it did seem like Professor Weatherwax had no idea who he was.  
  
'I'll play no favourites in my class,' she went on. 'If you act like a silly bugger you'll get it in the neck, same as anyone. I don't expect much but what I do expect is for you to keep quiet, pay attention and let me do my job.' No one spoke for a moment or two and Professor Weatherwax seemed perfectly happy with this, she was looking out into the faces of her class, figuring out what kind of people she had to deal with. After a lengthy silence the professor finally spoke again.'So, any questions?' The moment she asked this Hermione's hand shot into the air so quickly that Harry swore he saw Professor Weatherwax blink. 'Yes Miss...?'  
  
'Granger,' replied Hermione. 'Hermione Granger, and I was wondering. What exactly _is_ Headology?'  
  
'Good question,' said the professor, pointing momentarily at Hermione. 'Headology is... well it's...'  
  
'Yes?' said Hermione, eager to finally find out what her new class entailed.  
  
'Put it this way,' said Professor Weatherwax, realising she had never really had to explain her craft before. 'Headology is making your opponent _think_ you know more than you actually do.'  
  
'Oh,' said Hermione.  
  
The rest of the class passed without incident; Professor Weatherwax did elaborate on her initial explanation of Headology but by the end of the lesson there were those who were still as confused as they were at the beginning of the classes, and in some cases more so. There had definitely been something weighing on Hermione's mind since the mention of their Headology lessons being in conjuncture with their Defence of The Dark Arts classes, and that was they had still not been introduced to this year's teacher for that class. Each and every year that Harry, Ron and Hermione had attended Hogwarts they had had a new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher and each and every year something had caused them to leave. In their first year Professor Quirrel had been allowing a weak Lord Voldemort to inhabit his body, in their second year Professor Lockhart had been revealed to be a fraud by Harry and Ron, in their third year Professor Lupin had left of his own accord on account of him being a werewolf, in their fourth year Professor Moody had turned out not to be Professor Moody at all and their last year had been spent languishing under the oppressive Ministry led rule of Professor Umbridge, who ended up being carried off into the Forbidden Forest by the resident unicorns and subsequently going mad, possibly because of her loathing for half-breeds. So by now the students at Hogwarts were used to greeting a new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher every year.  
  
Just as the class was winding down to a close Hermione decided to find out once and for all who was going to be teaching their Defence Against The Dark Arts classes this year. Harry and Ron were not as bothered however so they told Hermione to meet them in the Great Hall for lunch. They were both tucking into platefuls of steak and kidney pie when Hermione arrived with a rather confused look on her face.  
  
'Well?' asked Ron between mouthfuls of pie. 'Did you find out who's teaching Defence Against The Dark Arts this year?'  
  
'Yes,' said Hermione, clearly still in a state of confusion.  
  
'Well don't leave us hanging,' said Ron, swallowing his current mouthful. 'What's the poor sod's name?'  
  
'Professor Dumbledore,' said Hermione. 


	3. Dumbledore's New Role

**Title:** _Headology 101_  
**Part:** _Chapter Three - Dumbledore's New Role_**  
Author:** Weatherwax**  
Rating:** PG**  
Disclaimer:** The following is a piece of Harry Potter fanfiction; all characters and locations are the copyrighted property of J.K. Rowling and therefore this piece is not intended for public distribution or sale.**  
Genre:** General/Comedy**  
Summary:** Dumbledore has taken over the role of Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher and he has new ideas for his class.**  
Author's Notes:** Warning for anyone who has yet to read _The Order of The Phoenix_, there is information in this chapter that relates to that book.

---

Hermione would have liked to have kept the fact that Dumbledore was the new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher a secret, just in case the Headmaster did not want people to know before there class with him. However, Ron could always been counted on to be blindingly tactless in almost all situations.

'_Have you heard? Dumbledore's going to be teaching Defence Against The Dark Arts!'_ blurted Ron for what seemed like the thousandth time at breakfast the next morning.

'A little louder Ron,' said Hermione, rolling her eyes. 'I don't think they heard you _in Scotland!_'

'What? It's great news,' said Ron, turning back around in his chair. 'We finally get someone who's going to last.' He began happily shovelling spoonfuls of porridge into his mouth, grinning about what he felt was the best news he had heard in a very long time.

'Yes I agree Ron, it's fantastic news but what if Dumbledore doesn't want people knowing before he tells them himself?'

'You worry too much,' said Ron in between mouthfuls. 'It's going to be great, isn't it Harry?'

'Yeah, great,' said Harry with far less enthusiasm than was expected.

'You alright?' asked Ron, taking a momentary break from stuffing himself.

'Yeah,' sighed Harry.

'Is something the matter?' asked Hermione.

'I don't know,' shrugged Harry. 'I'm glad Dumbledore's taking over Defence Against The Dark Arts and everything, but why not sooner?'

'What do you mean?' asked Hermione.

'Well, if he's the only wizard out there who Voldemort's afraid of why didn't he do this years ago?'

'I dunno,' shrugged Ron. 'Why don't you ask him?'

'Maybe I will,' said Harry, staring thoughtfully into his pumpkin juice.

---

By the time the sixth year Gryffindors had their first Defence Against The Dark Arts class Ron had successfully blabbed about Dumbledore's new appointment to almost everyone he had seen. The majority of students were just as happy as he was that their beloved Headmaster would be schooling them in the fight against Voldemort, but this jubilation was not completely school wide. The Slytherins were less than happy, and some of the more vocal students used any opportunity they could to voice their distaste at Dumbledore's new teaching position. No one paid them any attention though; the majority of students and faculty considered Professor Dumbledore teaching Defence Against The Dark Arts to be a spectacular idea.

Unsurprisingly, this was still the main topic of conversation by the time Harry, Ron and Hermione were filing into the Defence Against The Dark Arts classroom later that week. Hermione shook her head as she heard scores of her classmates discussing nothing but Dumbledore.

'So Ron, did you remember to tell _everyone?_' she said dryly as she sat down.

'Yeah yeah,' said Ron, slinging his bag on to his desk. 'Give it a rest, will you?' The class took to their desks but the various conversations did not die down, people were still speculating on the upcoming class and what it could possibly entail. Only when Professor Dumbledore appeared at the top of the stairs at the front of the classroom did the multiple conversations finally cease.

'I am pleased to see that my new appointment has generated such lively discussion.' He descended the stairs and stood in front of his class, gazing serenely at the assembled young minds that he was now doubly responsible for. He was used to being in the charge of students at Hogwarts but it had been some years since he had taught a class. The task did not daunt him though, in many ways he was glad to back in the saddle, he just wished that it were not under such dire circumstances. The sixth year Gryffindor class sat quietly and patiently, waiting to see what their Headmaster had in store for them.

'I do not see the need in repeating what I said on the first night of term,' he began. 'I am sure that all of you are more than aware of the dangers that face us at the present time. Lord Voldemort has returned to full strength and I have taken it upon myself to school you in the ways of protection against his influence and his followers.'

The class sat with a mixture of emotions, many were excited that Professor Dumbledore had taken such firm action, but there was still the underlying fear of the Dark Lord and his loyal band of Death Eaters. Dumbledore seemed to pick up on this and he smiled benignly before continuing.

'I myself am aware that the very mention of the Dark Lord conjures a mixture of emotions, and therefore what I teach to one student may not be as effective to another. So I have decided to see you all individually for personal tutorials, this will allow me to ascertain the best possible method for your own protection and give me the chance to teach it to you on a one-to-one basis, which I feel will prove far more productive than the traditional class structure.'

Dumbledore allowed his latest announcement to sink in and watched as expressions moved from surprise to confusion and back to surprise again.

'So what is going to happen today is I will post this list of names and times,' with a wave of his hand a piece of parchment appeared in the air beside him. 'And while you are waiting for your tutorial I suggest you adjourn to either your common room or the library and use the time to do some homework.'

The class stood up uncertainly and began to file out, seeing the parchment that Dumbledore had conjured posted on the door. Some people headed back to the Gryffindor common room, some to the library, including Harry, Ron and Hermione.

'This is an excellent idea,' said Hermione enthusiastically, as they headed towards the library. 'I think it will really give people a chance to learn a lot.'

'I'm just glad I'm a Weasley,' said Ron, nudging Harry.

'And why is that?' asked Hermione, turning around to face Ron and Harry.

'Because,' said Ron, grinning. 'He's seeing people alphabetically.' Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed as she realised what Ron was talking about.

'I can't believe you sometimes Ron,' said Hermione, shaking her head. 'Here we have a chance to learn from the best of the best on how to defend ourselves from You-Know-Who and all _you_ can think about is skiving off.'

'Hey hey, easy there Hermione,' said Ron, holding his hands up in defence. 'I'm just glad I don't have to go first, that's all.'

'Well personally, _I_ can't wait for my tutorial, the questions I can ask, the things Professor Dumbledore can teach me, the possibilities are _endless_.'

'Okay, take it easy,' said Ron, casting a knowing glance at Harry. 'We know you love to learn new stuff but there's no need to wet yourself.'

'Oh _honestly_ Ron,' sighed Hermione, as she turned on her heel and continued on her way. Ron grinned widely at Harry as they followed Hermione to the library, he did so love to bait her.

Finding a table in the library, Harry and Ron began taking parchment and books out of their bag, ready to get some homework done before their tutorial with Dumbledore. Hermione however had disappeared into the shelves and returned several minutes later with a stack of heavy tomes.

'Aren't you going to do your homework?' asked Ron, as he smoothed out a piece of parchment.

'I did all my homework last night,' replied Hermione, as she dumped the large books on to the table with an audible _thump_. 'You know, you could stay on top of things as well if you didn't spend your evenings playing Wizard Chess and Exploding Snap, both of you.' Harry looked up from his piece of parchment that he had only written his name on, not expecting Hermione to pick on him as well.

'I'm sorry Hermione,' said Harry flatly. 'I like to have something to take my mind off things and playing Wizard Chess and Exploding Snap with Ron helps me forget about things like, oh I don't know, _Sirius' death_.' The words left his mouth and hung in the air like a dense, uncomfortable fog while Harry stared at Hermione. She could not return his gaze and Ron looked at both of them with a worried expression. Eventually Hermione spoke up, but in a much quieter tone.

'Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean...'

'Forget it,' said Harry, opening one of his books. 'It's okay.'

'Harry, she didn't mean anything...'

'_I said forget it,_' snapped Harry, fixing both his friends with a hard frown. After a few seconds his expression softened and he let out a long sigh before speaking again. 'Look I'm sorry guys, I didn't mean to bite your head off, it just gets to me sometimes, you know?'

'Of course,' said Hermione, sitting down next to Harry. 'I didn't mean to push.'

'It's okay,' said Harry, smiling weakly. 'Lets forget about it.' Although the three friends had made up little conversation followed, instead they each got on with their work, the sound of turning pages and scratching quills the only noise that could be heard.

Some time passed, and Harry was busily working away when an irregular movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked up but saw nothing, Ron and Hermione did not seem to have noticed; they carried on with what they were doing with blank expressions. Shrugging it off, Harry carried on with his work but then a dark figure walked passed their table and turned to face him. Harry froze, his quill a mere inch from his parchment, his mouth open agape, this could not be happening.

_It was Sirius._

He looked exactly the way he did the last time Harry saw him, his black hair and beard cut and trimmed neatly in stark contrast to the wild and woolly dimensions it had reached while he was imprisoned in Azkaban. Harry continued to stare in total shock as Sirius smiled and waved, _this simply could not be happening._

As Harry stared open mouthed at his supposedly deceased godfather, Sirius turned around and began to walk away. Harry called after him as loudly as he could without incurring the wrath of Madam Pince but not only did Sirius fail to respond but neither Ron, nor Hermione nor indeed anyone else in the library react to Harry's raised voice. He called louder but still Sirius would not answer and still no one seemed bothered that Harry was now shouting. Standing up, he began to follow Sirius throughout the library, but no matter how loud he shouted his late godfather just would not answer. Catching up with him, Harry grabbed Sirius by the arm, causing the man to turn around.

'_Sirius!_ I thought you were dead. How did you...?' Harry stopped when Sirius smiled again, turned around and carried on walking, seemingly in the direction of a door at the end of the library. Harry frowned in confusion as he tried to remember where that door led and as he pondered this a feeling of cold dread swept through him. He did not know where the door led but he was now certain that it was nowhere good, and he _had_ to stop Sirius from approaching it.

'Sirius, _no!_' shouted Harry, as he started to run towards his godfather, but his legs felt heavy and would not cooperate with him. As he strained to reach Sirius he saw his godfather reach for the doorknob and begin to open to mysterious door. All Harry could see past Sirius was complete blackness and the feeling of dread intensified as he watched as Sirius stepped inside. The door closed slowly behind him and when Harry finally reached it he swung it open only to reveal the wall of the library, Sirius was gone again.

'_No!'_ screamed Harry.

'Harry, Harry wake up.'

'But Sirius...'

'Harry, you were having a bad dream.'

Shaking himself awake, Harry opened his eyes and unclenched his fists, hearing the crackle of parchment as he did so. Caked in sweat, his glasses had slid off his nose, and Ron and Hermione were standing on each side of him, both with worried looks on their faces.

'What, what's going on?' he asked blearily.

'You were having a bad dream,' said Ron, laying a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder.

'Sounded like a bloody awful one as well.'

'I dreamed about Sirius,' said Harry, putting his glasses back on and attempting to smooth out the parchment he had crumpled in his sleep.

'We know, you began screaming his name,' said Hermione, offering him a handkerchief.

'Screaming is the word,' said Madam Pince irritably as she approached the table. 'I will _not_ have such noise in my library. _Mister_ Potter, if you feel the need for an afternoon nap kindly do it in your dormitory, _not_ in here, thank you.'

'Yes, sorry,' said Harry, slightly embarrassed. 'It won't happen again.'

'I should hope not,' huffed Madam Pince, before returning to her desk. The people who Harry's screaming had attracted began to go about their business again but Ron and Hermione sat in silence, not knowing what to say.

'Harry, are you okay?' ventured Hermione uneasily.

'I'll feel better after I talk to Dumbledore,' replied Harry.

'I hope so,' said Hermione.

---

One by one, the sixth year Gryffindors had their tutorials with Professor Dumbledore and when it was Harry's turn he made his way back to the Defence Against The Dark Arts classroom. Knocking gently, the door swung slowly open and stepping inside Harry saw Dumbledore sitting at his desk at the head of the classroom.

'Ah Harry, do come in,' smiled Dumbledore, putting down his quill. Harry approached the desk and stood before the Headmaster, causing him to smile amusedly. 'Please, take a seat.'

Harry sat down and looked at his Headmaster who frowned slightly as he looked the young man up and down.

'Are you all right Harry?' he asked. 'You look a little flushed.'

'I fell asleep in the library,' said Harry meekly.

'Ah, I myself have often found the peaceful environment of the library to have a certain soporific effect, but I am sure Madam Pince did not share this viewpoint.' Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischievously as Harry grinned slightly. 'But as fearsome to students as our dear Madam Pince may be,' continued Dumbledore. 'I do not think she is the cause for your ruffled state. Tell me Harry, when you slept, did you dream?' Upon mentioning this, Harry looked almost confused as to how Dumbledore could know, but he had long ago stopped being too surprised at the extent of his Headmaster's knowledge. Nodding weakly, Dumbledore looked satisfied that Harry was not going to hold back.

'I dreamed about Sirius,' said Harry quietly.

'I thought you might,' said Dumbledore sympathetically. 'He was a good man and an important part of your life; it is only natural that you dreamed about him.' Breaking eye contact, Professor Dumbledore pulled out a piece of parchment from his desk and quickly wrote down a few lines, covering the parchment with his hands as soon as he was finished. 'So tell me Harry, what happened in your dream?'

'Well, I didn't know I was dreaming at the time,' said Harry.

'Very few of us do,' said Dumbledore. 'But please, tell me what happened.'

'I was working in the library with Ron and Hermione when I saw something in the corner of my eye. I didn't know what it was at first but then I saw Sirius walk right in front of our table and smile and wave at me.'

'Go on,' said Dumbledore, listening intently.

'He turned and walked away so I started calling after him, quietly at first but louder and louder when no one told me to be quiet.'

'What happened then?' asked Dumbledore.

'I followed him through the library but he still wouldn't answer me, then when I caught up with him he just turned around and said nothing.'

'Where was Sirius going?' asked the Headmaster.

'He was heading towards a door at the far end of the library,' continued Harry. 'I couldn't remember seeing it before but I started to feel really bad about it, like I knew he shouldn't go near it.'

'And did he?'

'Yes,' sighed Harry. 'He went through the door and when I opened it all I saw was the library wall, as if the door had never existed.'

'What do you think this means?' asked Dumbledore.

'I'm not sure,' said Harry, shaking his head slightly. 'But it must have something to do with Sirius dying.'

'Well done Harry,' nodded Dumbledore. 'It is clear to me that the door in your dream refers to the veil that Sirius passed through when he died.' Dumbledore paused momentarily to look over his glasses at Harry before continuing. 'Forgive my bluntness Harry, but I would imagine that you are tired of people treading on eggshells around you, I know I would be.'

'It's okay, Professor,' said Harry.

'Well, what I want you to do now is read this parchment, then I think you will know what it is I have in store for you.' Professor Dumbledore handed Harry the parchment that he had written on moments before and sat back as Harry began to read:

"_I was working in the library with Ron and Hermione when I saw something in the corner of my eye. I didn't know what it was at first but then I saw Sirius walk right in front of our table and smile and wave at me."_

Harry blinked at the off yellow parchment while the words he had not long ago spoken sat plain as day in Dumbledore's flowing script. He looked up at Dumbledore, then back down at the parchment, and slowly realisation stared to dawn on him.

'You...you're a...' stuttered Harry.

'Legimens,' nodded Dumbledore.

'But...'

'I know Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'I should have made the responsibility of teaching you Occlumency my own in the first place, but I thought, foolishly I will now admit, that it would be a good test for Professor Snape as well.'

'What do you mean?' asked Harry, remembering with a shudder when Professor Snape had caught him observing embarrassing moments from the Potions Master's past.

'It is no secret, to those of the Order at least, that Professor Snape has a colourful past and that were it not for my intervention he would have surely been tried as a Death Eater.' Harry repressed a slight surge of anger as he recalled the numerous times that Professor Snape had treated him unfairly but he also kept in mind that as much as he did not like the Potions Master he was putting his life in danger on a regular basis in order to provide The Order of The Phoenix with valuable information as to the movements and activities of Voldemort's Death Eaters.

'At any rate,' continued Dumbledore. 'It was as important for Professor Snape to let go of certain aspects of his past as it was for him to teach you the art of Occlumency, unfortunately some of Professor Snape's darker moments run far deeper than I had anticipated. He is, after all a skilled Legimens.'

'So, does this mean I'm going to start learning Occlumency again?' asked Harry.

'Yes, as part of your Defence Against The Dark Arts education we will be meeting once a week to go over your progress and test your abilities. I will set you reading each week but I am not going to make you write essays and such, knowledge written is not always knowledge remembered, and it is imperative that you learn as much as you can.'

'Thank you Professor.'

'Don't thank me just yet,' said Dumbledore. 'This is not going to be an easy road, you are going to have to absorb an awful lot of information and it will no doubt get stressful at times, but I would not be proposing this if I did not think you could handle it.'

'I'll try my best,' said Harry, nodding determinedly.

'I sincerely hope so,' said Dumbledore, pulling out another sheet of parchment. 'This is the book I want you to start with, show Madam Pince this parchment and she will allow you to check books out of the Restricted Section.'

'Thank you Professor,' said Harry, pocketing the parchment.

'Thank you Harry, I shall see you next week.' Getting up from his chair, Harry left the Defence Against The Dark Arts classroom and made his way back to Gryffindor common room, expecting to see Ron and Hermione, but they were not there. Approaching one of the armchairs, Harry enquired with Neville Longbottom as to their whereabouts.

'I think they said they were going to visit Hagrid,' he said.

'Cheers Neville,' smiled Harry, as he made his way to the portrait hole.

---


	4. Half a House Brick in a Sock

**Title:** _Headology 101_  
**Part:** Chapter Four - _Half a House Brick in a Sock_  
**Author:** Weatherwax  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** The following is a piece of Harry Potter/Discworld crossover fanfiction; all characters and locations are the copyrighted property of J.K. Rowling and Terry Pratchett and therefore this piece is not intended for public distribution or sale.  
**Genre:** General/Comedy  
**Summary:** Professor Weatherwax's presence at Hogwarts catches the attention of the Dark Lord  
**Author's Notes:** Warning for anyone who has yet to read The Order of The Phoenix, there is information in this chapter that relates to that book.

---

Harry made his way through the castle and out the large double doors in the Entrance Hall. Descending the grassy slope, he could see a plume of pale smoke emanating from the chimney of Hagrid's cabin, indicating that he was in. As he approached, Harry smiled to himself thinking with fondness of all the times he and his two best friends had spent in the company of the Hogwarts groundskeeper, and even though he had been going to see Hagrid for six years now he still knocked to announce his presence. However, the person who answered the door was definitely not Hagrid, nor Ron, nor Hermione.

It was Professor Weatherwax.

'Oh, hello Professor,' said Harry, clearly surprised to see her. 'Is err...is Hagrid in?'

'He is,' nodded Granny. 'You comin' in or what?' Harry stepped cautiously into the cabin, wondering what the new Professor could be doing down here but when he saw Ron and Hermione sitting at the large wooden table and Hagrid bent over his cooking pot he knew all was well.

'Hi Harry,' said Ron, smiling.

'Hi guys, Neville said I'd find you here.'

'Harry my lad,' exclaimed Hagrid cheerfully. 'Yer just in time, sit yerself down.'

'Just in time for what?' asked Harry, as he clambered into one of Hagrid's enormous chairs and looked at the distorted image of Ron through the large jug of ice water that had been placed on the table.

'Lunch apparently,' said Hermione, eyeing Hagrid's cooking pot with what looked like mild concern.

'We're not eating in the Great Hall?' asked Harry.

'Not today Harry,' beamed Hagrid.

'Why not?'

''Cos it's not everyday you get the chance to try something like _this._' Clutching the massive cooking pot effortlessly in one hand, Hagrid plopped a strange, steaming round thing into each plate on the table, except for his own, into which he dropped three of the curious looking objects.

'Are you sure about this, Hagrid?' asked Granny. 'These things pack a wallop if you're not used to them.'

'They'll be fine,' said Hagrid. 'With all the joke sweets these young'uns buy in Hogsmeade this'll be a walk in the park.'

'If you say so,' said Granny, clearly not convinced.

'What's _are_ they?' asked Ron, as he prodded his lunch with a fork.

'These Ron are clootie dumplings,' said Hagrid with audible pride. 'Courtesy of Nanny Ogg, bless 'er heart.'

'They're _what?_ From _who?_' asked Ron, looking in puzzlement from the dumpling to Hagrid.

'Nanny Ogg is part of the Lancre Coven, which Professor Weatherwax here is pretty much in charge of,' said Hagrid as Granny allowed herself a slight smile. 'And clootie dumplings are one of her specialities.'

'Among other things,' said Granny dryly.

'And it's been ages since I had one,' smiled Hagrid. 'They're right bloody lovely, I tell you that.'

'But weren't you just cooking them yourself?' asked Harry.

'Oh no,' said Hagrid. 'I was just warming them up, it's a long way to Lancre so Mrs Ogg froze them for me, she's such a dear.'

'If you like them so much why don't you just ask her for the recipe?' asked Hermione.

'She'd never give it,' said Granny. 'About the only thing Gytha won't give up freely are her cooking secrets.'

'Which is why they're such a treat,' said Hagrid, slapping his gigantic hands together and rubbing them gleefully. 'Now tuck in everyone.' Harry, Ron and Hermione waited for Hagrid and Professor Weatherwax to start eating before tentatively trying this bizarre new food, but when they saw how happily Hagrid was chomping away they decided they must be good. Taking small initial bites, Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other in approval, they were indeed good. Ron was the first to notice what Professor Weatherwax was talking about, although the so-called clootie dumpling was definitely tasty there was something building up inside him that was making its presence felt. Exhaling deeply, Ron looked to Harry and Hermione who had similar expressions on their faces, there was definitely something up with these dumplings.

'_Bloody hell, I'm on fire!'_ exclaimed Ron, as he reached frantically for the jug of ice water and began to pour himself a long glass. He barely had time to put the jug down before Hermione was reaching desperately for it as well, followed closely by Harry.

'_What's in these things?'_ breathed Hermione heavily, as she chugged down mouthfuls of ice water.

'No idea,' said Hagrid, looking concerned at his three young friends. 'Why, don't you like 'em?'

'They're lovely Hagrid,' said Ron, as he fingered his collar in a vain attempt to cool himself down. 'But if you could stop them from burning the arse out of my trousers I'd be happy.'

'Told you they pack a wallop,' said Granny, as she finished off her dumpling.

'A wallop?' said Ron, a little more easily as the heat began to subside. 'It felt like I had a live dragon in my belly.'

'You get used to 'em,' smiled Hagrid, as he dabbed up the last of one of his dumplings with some crusty bread.

'How?' asked Hermione incredulously, as she poured herself another glass of ice water. 'That has to be the hottest thing I've _ever_ tasted.'

'It's always hardest first time,' said Granny. 'I was on the privvy for about a week after I first tried 'em.'

'I could eat 'em all day,' smiled Hagrid. 'But I didn't realise they'd be so tough on you, sorry.'

'It's okay,' said Harry. 'But aren't you going to finish that last one?'

Nah, this one's for Grawp, I told him I had a surprise for him so I'd better be off before it gets cold.'

'Be careful Hagrid,' said Hermione concernedly. 'We don't want you getting attacked anymore.'

'I'll be fine,' said Hagrid, as he busied himself with packaging the last remaining dumpling. 'Ol' Grawpy's been a lot better lately, hardly even takes a swing at me.'

'Well just be careful,' reiterated Hermione.

'I will, now off you go, you don't want to be late.'

'Late for what?' asked Ron. 'What have I forgotten now?'

'Class with me,' said Professor Weatherwax, as she stood up. 'Afternoon, Hagrid.'

'Nice to see you Professor, see ya Harry, Ron, Hermione.'

'Bye Hagrid,' chorused the three students, as the groundskeeper exited through the back door.

'Nice lad,' said Granny. 'He really likes those dumplings. Now, I'll see you three in class.'

The sixth year Gryffindor and Slytherin students filed into the newly appointed Headology classroom and waited for the arrival of Professor Weatherwax, who appeared not long afterwards carrying a large heavy looking sack.

'Right,' said the Professor, as she slid the sack off her shoulder and let it hit the floor with a loud _clunk_. 'Today we'll be learning about a different way to defend yourselves.' She sat at her desk and surveyed her class once more. 'You're going to have to learn to defend yourselves without your wands, you can't rely on them all the time. What are you going to do if some vicious bugger nicks it from you?' The contemplative frowns that creased the brows of her students told her that hardly any of them had considered the possibility of losing their wands, just as she thought. With a slight nod to herself she continued.

'I thought that'd get your attention, knowing all the spells in the world is all fine and good if you've got your wand but it doesn't look like any of you have thought about that, have you?' Some members of the class looked dejectedly at their desks, realising that Professor Weatherwax was indeed right, whereas others sat in either defiance or rapt interest of what their new teacher had to say. 'So what I want first is a brave volunteer...anyone?' A few seconds passed before Seamus Finnegan raised his hand.

'I'll give it a go.'

'Good, Mister...?'

'Finnegan, Seamus Finnegan'

'Right Mister Finnegan, if you'd come and stand up here the rest of you can move your desks back and clear a space.' While Seamus went to the front of the class the rest of the students pushed their desks towards the walls and created a roughly circular space that Professor Weatherwax was now standing in.

'Okay Mister Finnegan, give me your wand.' Seamus handed her his wand and she pocketed it before walking over to the sack she had bought in and retrieving a couple of items from it. The rest of the class either sat on the floor or on desks or on the few reaming chairs that were no longer barricaded by the line of desks that formed the circle, everyone waiting to see what was going to happen.

'Right, what I want you to do is come at me like you mean to do me harm, think you can do that?'

'I'll do my best,' said Seamus uncertainly. Raising his arms into a classic threatening pose he took a step or two towards Professor Weatherwax but stopped cold when she quickly slipped half a house brick into a sock and started swinging it around her head.

'_What the hell are you doing? You're crazy!'_ Seamus all but fell on his backside as he scrambled to get away from Professor Weatherwax and her makeshift weapon but she did not approach, instead she just lowered her arm and turned to face the class.

'Now see how easy that was?' said Professor Weatherwax, placing the crude weapon on her desk. 'In times of trouble you can't beat half a house brick in a sock, I even heard tell that a very powerful sorcerer was once defeated by one.' A quiet murmur of conversation ran through the class as the prospect of non-magical self-defence sank in and as Seamus Finnegan made his way to where his desk had been pushed Neville Longbottom tentatively raised his hand.

'Yes? And who are you?' asked Professor Weatherwax, pointing at Neville and making him shrink a little in his chair.

'Neville Longbottom, Professor.'

'What is it Mister Longbottom?'

'What...what if we don't have half a house brick with us?' His earnest questioning made Professor Weatherwax laugh, and Neville did not know whether to be heartened or worried by this.

'It doesn't really matter,' smiled Professor Weatherwax. 'Anything heavy that you can stuff into a sock will do, it'll all do the same thing.'

'And what happens if your opponent doesn't back down?' asked Hermione, clearly interested but slightly sceptical of this new mode of teaching.

'Then you whack 'em on the head, kick 'em in the ribs, steal their shoes and run like hell.'

'Oh.'

'With that in mind, I bought enough socks and bricks for all of you to give it a try so pair up and be bloody careful. Miss Granger?'

'Yes?' said Hermione.

'Do you know a shield charm that'll protect people's heads?'

'I do actually.'

'Make sure everyone knows it.'

---

As Professor Weatherwax's class proceeded to beat the living hell out of each other, a dark figure was making its way through low passages and gloomy corridors. It stopped at a particular door, knocked curtly and stepped inside. Approaching a large armchair at one end of the room the dark figure stooped in abject deference in the presence of the chair's occupant.

'What is it?' rasped the figure in the chair.

'News from Hogwarts, Master,' said the faceless minion.

'Go on.'

'It seems that Albus Dumbledore is now teaching the students the Defence Against The Dark Arts class,' said the minion, seeming to stoop lower with every word.

'The old fool,' spat the figure in the chair. 'His efforts are futile.'

'There is more, Master.'

'What?'

'They've added a new class to the roster in hopes of better preparing the students for...err...you, Master.'

'Have they now?' laughed the figure in the chair. 'I feel I should be flattered. Pray tell me, what is this new class?'

'Headology, Master.' The mention of the new class caused the figure in the chair to tense, and when he spoke again his tone was different.

'Headology you say? And who have they got to teach this unique practise?'

'Esmerelda Weatherwax, Master.' Had the minion not been all but prostrating himself in front of his master he may have seen his lips soundlessly mouth the name he had just said.

'That will be all,' said the figure in the chair. The minion bowed one last time and shuffled quickly out of the room, leaving Lord Voldemort with his thoughts.

'Esmerelda Weatherwax,' he said to himself, exhaling deeply and staring into the fire. 'There's a name I never thought I'd hear again.'

---


	5. Granny Learns The Truth

**Title:** _Headology 101_  
**Author:** Weatherwax  
**Part:** _Chapter Five - Granny Learns The Truth_  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** The following is a piece of Harry Potter/Discworld crossover fanfiction; all characters and locations are the copyrighted property of J.K. Rowling and Terry Pratchett and therefore this piece is not intended for public distribution or sale.  
**Genre:** General/Comedy  
**Summary:** Professor Weatherwax finds out Voldemort's true identity  
**Author's Notes:** I apologise for the time it took me to write this, I started back at university between chapters four and five and it's been hell finding the time to do any writing

---

The term at Hogwarts was proceeding nicely and the two new appointed teachers, Professors Dumbledore and Weatherwax had settled into their new positions with ease. The students continued to be baffled by Professor Weatherwax's unorthodox methods but there was no denying that what she was teaching was indeed useful, even if hardly any of it involved magic. Halloween was nearly upon the school and Professor Weatherwax had not performed a single piece of magic, not one spell nor charm, and certain people, namely Hermione, were growing suspicious of their new teacher.

'I just think it's strange, that's all,' said Hermione one cold mid-October morning. 'Why doesn't she want to use magic? It's as if she prefers to do things the hard way.'

'Come on Hermione,' said Ron in between mouthfuls of cereal. 'She's great, hardly any homework.'

'Trust you to think of that,' sighed Hermione. 'I'm not saying she's not good at her job, I just find it a little odd that in a school of witchcraft and wizardry we have a teacher who all but avoids using magic. Why do you suppose it is, Harry?'

'Maybe she don't think showin' off an' flingin' spells about the place is the proper way to teach you lot to defend yourself,' said Professor Weatherwax, who seemed to have just appeared behind Hermione. Ron nearly choked on his cereal as Hermione's eyes widened at the realisation that she had been caught talking about a teacher behind her back. Slowly, she turned round to face Professor Weatherwax.

'P-Professor,' stuttered Hermione. 'I'm sorry, I didn't know…'

'S'not nice to be talkin' about folk when they can't hear you,' said Professor Weatherwax sharply. 'Or when you _think_ they can't hear you.'

'I'm sorry Professor,' stammered Hermione. 'It won't happen again.'

'I daresay it won't,' sad the Professor before proceeding to the staff table. When Hermione turned back to face Harry and Ron they were both stifling huge grins.

'Oh be quiet,' said Hermione huffily, casting her gaze downwards towards her toast.

'Way to put your foot in it Hermione,' chuckled Ron.

'Shut up,' she snapped.

'Hey, you guys sorted out dates for the Halloween ball?' asked Harry, quickly changing the subject before another fight broke out between Ron and Hermione.

'Nope,' said Ron, indicating that he had no desire to even do so.

'Sort of,' said Hermione quietly, as if she did not want to be heard.

'Sort of?' said Ron, frowning slightly. 'What, you want to take Lockhart but can't because he's banged up in St. Mungo's?' Ron looked proudly to Harry for some recognition on what he thought was a fine joke but before Harry could do anything Hermione bit back.

'_No!_' she said, blushing slightly. 'Someone's asked me but I don't know if I want to go with them.'

'It's not Neville is it?' asked Ron. 'Hasn't he asked you every year so far?'

'No, it's not Neville,' said Hermione who did feel a little sorry for Neville because he had indeed asked her to some function or other since the first year.

'Well who is it then?' asked Ron, getting impatient.

'Colin Creevey,' said Hermione, blushing harder than before.

'_What?_ That kid who followed Harry round all our second year and wouldn't stop taking pictures of him?'

'Yes.'

'You want to go with _him?_' exclaimed Ron in clear disbelief.

'I said I don't know,' repeated Hermione. 'He's actually a very sweet boy when you get to know him, but I just don't know.'

'Do you like him?' asked Harry before Ron could protest further.

'He's nice enough,' nodded Hermione.

'Then why not go with him?' reasoned Harry. 'It's only one date, it doesn't mean anything, and you might have a really good time.'

'Thanks Harry,' smiled Hermione. 'You know you're right, when I next see Colin I'll tell him I've made up my mind.' With that Hermione finished off her pumpkin juice and said she was going to the library for a couple of minutes before class and that she would meet them there. When she was safely out of earshot Harry turned to Ron.

'If you're going to get so mad every time someone else takes Hermione to a school do you're really going to have to pluck up the courage to ask her yourself.' Ron could not have looked more shocked if Harry had told him he was eating horse manure and he seemed to choke on the torrent of words that wanted to fly forth from his mouth.

'What are you talking about?' he spluttered, ears turning red. 'I don't like Hermione in _that_ way!'

'Okay Ron,' said Harry, not convinced one bit.

'I _don't!_' repeated Ron, the rest of his face catching up with his ears in redness, but inside the privacy of his own mind a little voice was making itself heard, and it said

'_Do I?'_

---

The Halloween ball was as usual the talk of the school in the days leading up to it and Hermione had taken Harry's advice and agreed to go with Colin Creevey, much to the silent chagrin of Ron, who had not bothered to look for a date and probably would not have gone at all had Harry not all but dragged him there. Harry did not have a date either, partly as a mark of solidarity to his best friend but also because he was quite frankly sick of trying to figure girls out. After seemingly putting his foot in it with Cho Chang at every opportunity he was not feeling particularly confident when it came to girls so he decided to stick by Ron and watch the ball from the wings.

The Great Hall had been decked out in its usual Halloween finery and people were talking and dancing and having the time of their lives, all except for Ron who seemed to be determined to stay in a foul mood all night.

'You want a drink?' asked Harry, trying to strike up a conversation. Ron just grunted and Harry was left to decide whether that meant yes or no, but as he was getting himself a drink he thought he may as well get one for Ron as well.

'I'll be back in minute,' said Harry, rising from his seat. He may as well have said he was going to feed himself to a Hippogriff for all the attention Ron was paying him but Harry knew better than to try and pull Ron out of such a mood prematurely, the best thing to do was leave him to it and let him come out of it in his own time, anything else could prove disastrous.

As Harry made his way to the refreshments table he smiled as he saw Professor Dumbledore dancing with Madam Pomfrey and Hagrid attempting to dance with Professor Weatherwax, who would later remark that if Hagrid trod on her foot one more time she would have kicked him smartly in the shins. Harry also caught sight of Hermione and Colin, sitting at a table on the other side of the Great Hall. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, they were talking and laughing but when Harry looked from them back to Ron he realised what his friend had been staring at most of the night. Harry sighed and returned to his table with two tall glasses of pumpkin juice.

'Here you go, mate,' said Harry as cheerily as he could. Ron grunted his thanks and took a swig from his glass, seemingly never taking his eyes off the other side of the room. As much as Harry knew he should not interfere, he was not about to sit in total silence all night so he decided to broach the subject of Hermione.

'Why don't you go and ask her to dance?' he ventured. 'I'm sure Colin won't mind.'

'Harry will you _shut up_ about Hermione? I _don't_ like her in that way and I'm getting bloody tired of you saying that I do!' Harry knew this was a touchy subject but he did not appreciate being snapped at, all he was trying to do was help. He fixed Ron with what he hoped was his best you're-not-fooling-anyone glare and it seemed to soften his friend's mood somewhat.

'Look I'm sorry Harry,' said Ron, much calmer than before. 'I just…'

'You do like her, don't you?' asked Harry, feeling brave. Ron looked like he was about to spring into protest again but it seemed he knew he had been rumbled.

'Is it that obvious?' he said, visibly deflating as he sank into his chair.

'Well duh,' smiled Harry, relieved that Ron had finally admitted it. 'I think everyone figured it out before you.'

'_You mean Hermione knows?'_ gasped Ron, looking suddenly horrified.

'I don't know,' said Harry reassuringly. 'She's never said anything to me about it, but why don't you find out for yourself?'

'How?' asked Ron nervously, flitting his gaze from Harry to where Hermione was sitting and back again.

'Well asking her to dance could be a good start.'

'I can't,' said Ron, looking down at the table.

'Why not?' asked Harry.

'What if she says no?'

'Then at least you'll know,' said Harry, feeling as if they were within sight of a resolution. 'Come on Ron, this is Hermione. Even if she does say no you two will still be friends, right?'

'Yeah, you're right,' said Ron, sounding more confident. 'What harm can it do, eh?'

'That's the spirit, good luck mate,' said Harry enthusiastically.

'Right, here I go,' said Ron, standing up. He smoothed his robes down and began to walk confidently across to where Hermione was standing, but he had not gone several steps before he was stopped dead in his tracks by an ear splitting crack and a flash of brilliant light erupting from the dance floor. The entire party halted and every pair of eyes in the room was glued to the now growing ball of light that sat in the middle of the dance floor. Professor Dumbledore strode forward, wand in hand as a human form took shape within the light and with every passing second Harry was plunged further and further into the icy waters of dread as he realised whom the figure was.

_Lord Voldemort._

Gasps and screams coursed through the Great Hall as the now recognisable form of Voldemort stood flickering before them, menacing and cold. People backed away as far as they could and hid behind tables and chairs and in some cases, Hagrid, but Dumbledore stood his ground.

'You are not welcome here, Tom,' he said sternly. Voldemort let out a shriek of maniacal laughter that seemed to cut through the very souls of everyone present, but Dumbledore stood firm.

'I have not forgotten about you all,' he hissed, pointing a long and bony finger around the room. 'My time draws near and then you will all feel the full power of true darkness!'

'_Be gone!'_ roared Dumbledore in an uncharacteristic show of anger. He pointed his wand at the heart of Voldemort and fired a shot of pure white straight at him, dissipating the figure into nothingness. As the light faded in the Great Hall the malevolent laughter could still be heard echoing in every corner and when calm had once again returned Dumbledore pocketed his wand and addressed his school.

'Calm yourselves,' he began, his voice still tense but with far more of its usual serenity than before. 'That was not the real Voldemort, he was merely projecting himself through the use of a certain spell that I _had_ thought would be deflected by our magical defences at Hogwarts, but now I see I am gravely mistaken.' A wave of conversation rippled through the Great Hall and Dumbledore had to call for quiet before he could speak again. 'However,' he continued. 'You may rest assured that I will be personally revamping our defences as soon as possible and while this incident is no doubt unfortunate I do not want it to spoil our evening.' With a wave of his hand the music started up once again and the Great Hall seemed to shine with more light than before, as if Dumbledore had added decorations to the ones already present. As people began to clam down and the ball resumed somewhat of its festive atmosphere Dumbledore approached Harry with a concerned expression.

'I think it would be best if you saw me in my office immediately,' he said, laying a hand on Harry's shoulders. Harry nodded mutely and followed the Headmaster out of the Great Hall.

The sudden explosion of light and noise had knocked Ron off his feet and when it was all over he found he had somehow scrambled away from Voldemort's ghastly image in the direction of Hermione.

'Are you alright Ron?' she asked concernedly when people began to talk again.

'Yeah, thanks,' said Ron, thankful she was taking an interest in his safety but he thought it was just typical. The minute he had plucked up the courage to ask Hermione to dance the Dark Lord decides to crash the party, _perfect._

'Who was that gruesome bugger?' asked Professor Weatherwax who once again seemed to appear out of nowhere.

'The Dark Lord,' said Hermione, almost whispering.

'Who?' asked Professor Weatherwax.

'You-Know-Who,' hissed Hagrid who had joined them at the table.

'No I bloody don't know who, so who was he?'

'Lord Voldemort,' mouthed Hermione, who was now definitely whispering.

'Speak up girl,' snapped Professor Weatherwax. 'Who?'

'_Lord Voldemort!'_ said Ron, surprising everyone with the urgency with which he uttered the unspeakable name. 'That was Lord Voldemort.'

'Voldemort eh?' said Professor Weatherwax. 'Don't sound like any name I've ever heard.'

'You've never 'eard of You-Know-Who?' asked Hagrid in surprise. 'He's only the baddest, meanest, most evil dark wizard there is. Killed poor Harry's parents stone dead he did.'

'Did he now?' said Professor Weatherwax thoughtfully.

'Professor, what is it?' asked Hermione.

'It's just that Voldemort don't sound right, it sounds too…made up, y'know?'

'Well Voldemort isn't his _real_ name,' said Hermione.

'Isn't it now?' said Professor Weatherwax, assuming as much. 'These dark wizardy buggers are all the same, they ditch their real names and pick something silly and fancy, I mean _Voldemort_, I ask you.'

'His real name is Tom Riddle,' ventured Hermione.

'_What?'_ said Professor Weatherwax, snapping her attention to what Hermione just said.

'Tom Marvolo Riddle, to be exact,' nodded Hermione. No sooner had Hermione spoke the name Professor Weatherwax had turned on her heel and walked briskly out of the Great Hall, leaving Ron, Hermione and Hagrid to ponder what was going on. Walking at full stride, Professor Weatherwax wended her way through corridor after corridor until she came to the stone gargoyle that protected the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

'Let me in,' she demanded.

'Password?' requested the gargoyle.

'I don't know it,' said Professor Weatherwax flatly. 'But I _have_ to see Dumbledore, _now let me in._'

'I'm sorry,' said the gargoyle. 'I can't let anyone in who doesn't know the password.'

'Now you listen to me,' snapped Professor Weatherwax, pointing a threatening finger at the gargoyle. 'I don't have time to bandy legs with you all night so if you don't let me in this instant I'll turn you all hot and runny like your ancestors what lived in a volcano.' That seemed suitable a threat to forego any password and the gargoyle dutifully slid aside and let Professor Weatherwax through, glad that she was no longer threatening to turn him into molten lava.

Ascending the stairs as fast as she could, Professor Weatherwax reached the top and stormed unannounced into Dumbledore's office. Fawkes, Dumbledore's pet phoenix that was close to its burning day, squawked and erupted into flames at the shock of Professor Weatherwax's entrance and both Harry and Professor Dumbledore looked up in surprise.

'Ah, Esmerelda…' began Dumbledore.

'Tom Riddle?' said Professor Weatherwax, crossing the office to the large ornate desk. '_Tom flaming Riddle!_ Why didn't you tell me?'

'Harry,' said Dumbledore, smiling at the bemused pupil sitting across from him. 'I think it would be best if you were to return to you dormitory for now.'

'Yes Headmaster,' said Harry, who secretly wanted to stay and watch the rest of this conversation unfold but knew better. He exited as quickly as he could, but as the door to Dumbledore's office closed he could hear Professor Weatherwax start up again.

'Albus, what's going on? What's Tom Riddle got to do with all this?'

---


	6. Christmas With The Order

**Title:** _Headology 101_  
**Author:** Weatherwax  
**Part:** _Chapter Six - Christmas With The Order_  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** The following is a piece of Harry Potter/Discworld crossover fanfiction; all characters and locations are the copyrighted property of J.K. Rowling and Terry Pratchett and therefore this piece is not intended for public distribution or sale.  
**Genre:** General/Comedy  
**Summary:** Number Twelve Grimmauld Place is a hive of activity over the Christmas holiday and both Harry and Ron are striving towards separate goals.  
**Author's Notes:** Once again it has taken me a while to get this chapter finished due to being back at university, I hope it's worth the wait.

---

After Lord Voldemort's surprise visit to Hogwarts at the Halloween Ball, Professor Dumbledore deemed the school to be unsafe for students to remain within over the Christmas holidays. So, while he set about revamping the school's magical securities, all Hogwarts students were sent home for Christmas, and for those who usually stayed at school arrangements were made for them to stay with the families of friends. 

This being the case, Harry was all set to spend Christmas with the Weasley's at The Burrow but on the day before everyone was due to leave for home he was called to Professor Dumbledore's study. Having finished packing his trunk, he made his way to the appropriate corridor, whispered the password to the awaiting gargoyle and ascended the stairs.

'Come in,' said the familiar voice of Dumbledore before Harry could even lay a knuckle on the ornate wood. Opening the door slowly, Harry stepped inside the study and made his way over to Dumbledore's desk where the Headmaster was waiting patiently, his piercing blue eyes fixed on the young Gryffindor.

'Take a seat please Harry,' said Dumbledore, pressing his fingertips together as he gazed over his half moon glasses, the portraits of Headmasters and Mistresses past either snoozing or taking mild interest in the proceedings. Harry sat himself down in the available chair and waited for Dumbledore to speak again. 'First of all Harry I feel I must once again apologise to you.'

'Apologise?'

'Yes Harry, apologise. Since the sad demise of your parents I have regrettably underestimated the strength of the connection between yourself and the Dark Lord that was forged on that fateful night.' Harry fought the immediate surge of emotion at the mention of his parents and continued to listen to what Dumbledore had to say. 'Anyway Harry, I am currently looking into ways of how to solidify the protection here at Hogwarts but I will confess that Voldemort's appearance at the Halloween Ball has unnerved me, I did not think it possible.' Harry waited a few seconds for the conversation to continue but Dumbledore seemed to have trailed off, his usually serene gaze taking on a more troubled look.

'Err, are you alright, Professor?' ventured Harry.

'What? Oh yes, fine,' said Dumbledore, snapping back to reality. 'Now, in the light of this recent revelation I feel it will be far safer for you to spend Christmas with The Order at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.'

'Oh, okay,' said Harry, feeling slightly disappointed that he would not be going to The Burrow.

'Now don't worry,' smiled Dumbledore, his manner returning to its usual genial nature. 'It may please you to know that your good friends Mister Weasley and Miss Granger will be joining you at Grimmauld Place.'

'They will?' said Harry, perking up instantly.

'Yes Harry, they will. As I am sure you will agree there is strength in numbers and I would personally feel better if you were under the watchful eye of The Order. Also, Molly has all but demanded that you spend Christmas with The Order, and you know it does not do to disagree with her.' Harry smiled as Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischievously, spending Christmas at Grimmauld Place would not be so bad if Ron and Hermione were going to be there.

'So I shall see you on Christmas Day then Harry,' said Dumbledore, standing up.

'I will?' asked Harry.

'Of course, The Order has a meeting scheduled for Christmas Day. What is it that Mister Moody is always saying? Constant vigilance.' Harry nodded, happy in the knowledge that he would be seeing Dumbledore for Christmas. The Headmaster led Harry to the door, shook his hand and returned to his desk, the troubled look in his eyes returning. As he worked, one of the former Headmasters regarded the current appointee from his ageing frame.

'The connection is too strong isn't it Albus?'

'I fear so,' replied Dumbledore.

---

Sitting almost motionless before a miserable looking fire, Lord Voldemort was lost in thought, the dying embers going completely unnoticed. The muted crackle of the fire was the only sound that could be heard, until the door on the far side of the room was opened and closed by a nameless Death Eater, who approached the fireplace with caution.

'Master, a word?'

'Yes?' replied the Dark Lord tartly.

'Well,' ventured the Death Eater carefully. 'Everyone is of course most impressed with your well executed appearance at Hogwarts but, well…'

'What is it?' demanded the Dark Lord.

'Well, people are wondering why we do not just mount a full attack on Hogwarts…'

'No!' shouted Voldemort, snapping forward in his chair and fixing the Death Eater with a cold, piercing glare. 'I cannot do that!'

'But you said your connection with the Potter boy was…'

'It is,' spat Voldemort. 'But…you do not understand.'

'What is it, Master?'

'Be gone from my sight!' hissed Voldemort.

'Yes, Master,' said the Death Eater quickly, scurrying hurriedly from the room.

'Why did she have to come here?' asked Voldemort to himself when he was alone again. 'Why now? It was all going to be so _perfect_.'

---

Due to safety precautions implemented by The Order of The Phoenix, Harry was unable to travel to Grimmauld Place by Floo Powder but luckily Professor Dumbledore had arranged an unofficial Portkey to transport him to the back garden of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, where Ron and Hermione were waiting for him.

'Alright mate?' beamed Ron, as Harry appeared on the lawn, his trunk landing heavily beside him.

'Hi,' smiled Harry, as he enchanted his trunk to levitate towards the house.

'How are you Harry?' asked Hermione, who unsurprisingly had a large book tucked under her arm.

'Oh not too bad, you?'

'Okay, considering,' shrugged Hermione. 'Professor Dumbledore said it would be better if I spend Christmas here. I do miss Mum and Dad but I guess he's right.'

'Anyway, lets get your stuff upstairs,' said Ron, putting his arm around Harry's shoulder and leading him up to the house.

Harry was pleased to see that the entire Weasley family were present at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, and after enduring the inevitable hugs from Molly Weasley he, Ron and Hermione adjourned upstairs to unload Harry's things.

'I didn't know you all be here,' said Harry, as he placed Hedwig's cage on top of his dresser.

'Yeah well,' shrugged Ron. 'Dumbledore reckoned it'd be safer.'

'I think it's great,' smiled Harry. 'I love spending Christmas with you guys.'

'Yes I'm sure we'll all have a wonderful time,' said Hermione cheerfully, causing Ron to blush slightly.

'And it's great that you're here too,' said Harry. 'Isn't it Ron?'

'Yeah…definitely,' mumbled Ron, as he turned a brighter shade of crimson and fixed his gaze on anywhere but Hermione. An awkward silence permeated the room before Hermione spoke again.

'Well I'll leave you to pack,' she said. 'I want to finish this chapter before dinner.'

'Okay, see you downstairs,' said Harry.

'Yeah, see you,' said Ron quickly. As soon as Hermione had left the room Ron's gaze snapped to Harry and he fixed him with an accusatory glare.

'What?' asked Harry.

'You know bloody well what,' said Ron irritably. 'Just knock it off, alright?'

'I'm sorry,' said Harry. 'I thought you were going to tell her how you felt.'

'Slow down there mate, I had just about plucked up the courage to ask her to dance at the Halloween Ball before You-Know-Who decided to drop in.'

'Yeah, that was a real shame,' nodded Harry.

'Tell me about it.'

'Well you've got to do something,' said Harry as he sat down next to Ron on his bed. 'Otherwise it's just going to eat away at you.'

'I know,' sighed Ron.

'Besides,' grinned Harry. 'You're getting to be a real pain about it.' Ron punched Harry playfully in the arm before the voice of Molly Weasley could be heard calling them down to dinner.

'I'll try and talk to her over the holiday,' said Ron.

---

Spending Christmas at Order Headquarters was proving to be far more fun than Harry had expected. He was getting in plenty of games of Wizard Chess with Ron, Hermione had helped them both with all their homework and Christmas dinner looked set to be very interesting indeed. The Order had indeed planned a meeting on Christmas Day but Dumbledore had finagled it so that it would precede Christmas dinner. This meant that Harry would be having Christmas dinner with the Weasleys _and_ The Order of The Phoenix. Granted that involved Professor Snape but Harry hoped they could put their differences aside for the sake of Christmas and The Order.

Ron was not having much luck with Hermione though, he was finding it very hard to be alone with her and whenever he managed it he could barely get his words out, let alone express his feelings. It certainly did not help matters to have Fred and George poking their noses seemingly into everything he was doing and to have Ginny almost always spending time with Hermione.

'I thought it was bad at school,' commented Ron one morning. 'But trying to talk to her with my whole family around is murder.'

'Want me to keep them busy for you?' offered Harry.

'Cheers mate but it wouldn't work.'

'Why not?'

''Cos, I think Fred and George have cottoned on.'

'What makes you think that?'

'This,' said Ron, as he opened the top drawer of his dresser. As soon as he did so the room was filled with Fred and George's taunting voices.

'RON AND HERMIONE SITTING IN A TREE…' Before the enchanted recording could complete itself Ron slammed the drawer and looked furtively at the bedroom door, waiting to see if anyone had heard. When he turned back to Harry a small smirk was doing its best to spread across his face.

'_It's not bloody funny!_' said Ron heatedly.

'No, you're right, it's not,' said Harry, fighting back the laughter. 'But have you thought about…'

'Thought about what?' asked Ron after Harry trailed off.

'Well if Fred and George know what's to stop them telling Hermione?'

'They wouldn't,' said Ron sternly.

'Why not?'

'Because I know things they don't want Mum to know and I told them if they said anything to Hermione I'd spill the lot.'

'You sneaky thing,' smiled Harry. 'But…'

'But what?'

'Oh nothing.'

'Harry.'

'It's just that Fred and George promised not to tell Hermione that you like her, right?'

'That's right.'

'Did they promise not to tell anyone else?'

'What do you…oh _hell!_' Ron's eyes widened in fear and in seconds he was bolting through the door and heading downstairs yelling 'Ginny? _Ginny!_' He found his younger sister helping out in the kitchen and without saying a word he dragged her into the empty drawing room and slammed the door.

'Ron, what the hell are you doing?'

'We need to talk.'

'Okay, and why couldn't we talk in the kitchen?'

'Just shut up and listen,' said Ron, waving his hands about manically. 'I don't know what Fred and George told you but it's not true.'

'But…'

'Let me finish,' interrupted Ron. 'You know what they're like, always making trouble.'

'But…'

'I mean yes, okay I like her but if anyone's going to tell her I want it to be me.'

'Ron, can I talk?' said Ginny, managing to get a few words in edgewise.

'What?'

'I have no idea what you're talking about.'

'You don't?' said Ron, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

'No, what's going on?'

'Oh…err…nothing.' stuttered Ron when he realised how much information he has unwittingly given out.

'Ron, are you okay?' asked Ginny, frowning slightly.

'Yes, fine…err…I have to go.' Before Ginny could question her brother any further Ron exited the room in a hurry, heading straight for his room where he did not emerge from for the rest of the day.

---

Christmas rolled around and as expected both Ron and Harry received knitted jumpers from Molly, which they wore for the remainder of the day. As soon as the presents had been exchanged Molly bustled herself into the kitchen and began preparations for Christmas dinner, clattering pots and pans and all manner of utensils. When Ron came in to collect the cutlery he noticed that there were more pieces than he had expected.

'What's this extra for, Mum?'

'Oh didn't Dad tell you?' said Molly as she was cutting up some vegetables. 'Dumbledore is bringing Professor Weatherwax.'

'He is?'

'Yes, she's joining The Order, Dumbledore says she'll be a valuable member.'

'Bad enough old Snape's coming,' muttered Ron. 'Who's he going to invite next, Filch?'

'Oh Ron, it'll be fun. Now go and set the table, there's a good boy.'

While Ron was setting the table Harry was on his way downstairs when he caught a snippet of a conversation being held between Ginny and Hermione.

'…and Ron was acting so weird…' Harry stopped by the girls' bedroom door and listened, suppressing the slight guilt he was feeling for eavesdropping.

'Who do you suppose he was talking about?' asked Hermione's voice.

'You, I think,' said Ginny.

'Me?' Harry took a sharp intake of breath before creeping away from the door and heading towards the stairs, intent on finding Ron and telling him what he just heard. But before he could put a foot on a single stair the front door opened and in stepped Professors Dumbledore and Weatherwax. Molly emerged from the other room and greeted them in hushed tones.

'Albus, Professor Weatherwax, Merry Christmas.'

'Molly my dear, Merry Christmas,' said Dumbledore in an equally quiet tone of voice.

'Nice little place you've got here,' said Granny, in her normal, definitely not quiet voice. This was more than enough to set off the portrait of the late Mrs. Black into a screaming frenzy, sending her shrill, piercing voice echoing throughout the house.

'_Blood traitors, all of you!_'

'What the _Disc_ is that?' asked Granny, sticking her fingers in her ears.

'The late Mrs. Black I am afraid,' sighed Dumbledore. Granny screwed up her face in distaste and walked past Dumbledore and Molly towards the space where Mrs. Black's portrait hung. Removing the dark material that covered it Granny was confronted with the twisted face of a wizened old woman, pale and ghostly, as she bellowed her accusations out into the hall.

'_Mudbloods, filthy mudbloods in my house!_' Granny fixed the hideous portrait with a glare that could cut through diamond and to everyone's amazement Mrs. Black quietened somewhat under the unwavering stare.

'That's better,' said Granny coldly. 'Now if you don't belt up I'll take a bucket of whitewash to ya.' No one had ever spoken to Mrs. Black like that before, not even Sirius, but it certainly seemed to work. Not another peep was heard from her and Granny was able to replace the covering and head into the kitchen, leaving Molly aghast and Dumbledore smiling to himself.

'She's quite something,' said Molly.

'That she is,' agreed Dumbledore. 'Now, Ron if you wouldn't mind heading upstairs, we need to begin our meeting.' Ron, who had followed Molly out of the kitchen nodded dutifully and headed upstairs, passing Harry as he went. Harry wanted to tell Ron what he had heard Ginny and Hermione talking about but for now he was more interested in hearing what would be said in the meeting.

Molly and Dumbledore had followed Granny into the kitchen and as quietly as he could Harry descended the stairs and secreted himself next to the kitchen door in an attempt to listen in on the meeting. He was already interested in knowing what The Order would be talking about but now that Professor Weatherwax was joining them as well it fuelled his curiosity all the more.

As he listened he was unaware of someone coming down the stairs and approach him quietly. It took them saying his name for him to notice them.

'Harry?' said Ginny. Harry jumped and waved her to be quiet, jerking a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. 'What are you doing?' she whispered.

'Trying to hear what they're saying in there,' Harry said, as quietly as he could.

'Oh, anything good?'

'Not yet.' Ginny took up position and joined Harry in eavesdropping and the first voice they heard was Professor Snape's.

'So, my good Professor Weatherwax, are we to understand you knew Lord Voldemort prior to his rise to power? Prior to his attending Hogwarts even?'

'Knew him? I should bloody say so.'

While Harry and Ginny listened, Ron had found himself alone with Hermione at last and this time he was determined to get his feelings out once and for all. Unfortunately, it proved far more difficult when he was in the same room with her, but he knew this could be his only opportunity to get her all by herself. Neither of them spoke though, and Ron found this deeply unnerving. Hermione was not usually this quiet, but her conversation with Ginny had given her a lot to think about.

'Err…Hermione?' stammered Ron.

'Yes Ron?' said Hermione in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.

'Well it's just…' Ron floundered over his words and the sudden silence caused them both to look up where they caught each other's gaze. Looking into her eyes Ron was reminded of all the reasons why he liked Hermione in the first place but the look she was giving him puzzled him slightly.

_Why's she looking at me like that?_ Ron thought to himself. As soon as this thought entered his head a whole host of other thoughts scrambled for attention.

_Does she know?_

_Is she angry with me?_

_Does she like me back?_ As all these thoughts jumbled and jostled inside Ron's head the silence between he and Hermione stretched out forever and just as the possible thought to do something about it started to rear its head the silence was shattered by Molly's resonating voice.

'Dinnertime everyone!' Hermione smiled weakly and left the room, leaving Ron feeling confused and increasingly frustrated.

'_Bugger!_'


	7. From Beyond The Veil

**_Title:_**_Headology 101_  
**_Part:_** Chapter Seven – _From Beyond The Veil_  
**_Author:_** Weatherwax  
**_Rating:_** PG  
**_Disclaimer:_** The following is a piece of Harry Potter/Discworld crossover fanfiction; all characters and locations are the copyrighted property of J.K. Rowling and Terry Pratchett and therefore this piece is not intended for public distribution or sale.  
**_Genre:_** General/Comedy  
**_Summary:_** Harry's dreams are telling him more than he knows.  
**_Author's Notes:_** Warning for anyone who has yet to read The Order of The Phoenix, there is information in this chapter that relates to that book.

* * *

It was nighttime, at least Harry assumed it was nighttime, Grimmauld Place was certainly quiet enough for it to be so, but that was just it, he could have sworn the Christmas holidays had ended and he had returned to Hogwarts, but here he was. Sitting on the edge of his bed with nothing but the pressing quiet surrounding him, he could not even hear Buckbeak moving about upstairs; the house was completely still. 

And then something caught his eye.

Someone, or something, had moved silently passed his doorway but he was not quick enough to see what it was. Breathing deeply from the shock, Harry moved cautiously to his door and peered tentatively out into the hallway. He was just in time to see the back of a head disappear down the stairs, and even though he could not see a face there was no mistaking those dark, tousled locks.

_It was Sirius again._

Harry instinctively called out to Sirius but his voice simply echoed around the hallway, garnering no response. Flinging his door aside, Harry started down the stairs after his late godfather, missing steps as he hurtled along after Sirius. Harry was quite sure there were not this many stairs in Grimmauld Place and no matter how fast he ran he only ever seemed to catch mere glimpses of Sirius turning a corner or disappearing down another flight. Continuing to call after him, Harry pursued Sirius for what seemed like an eternity until finally he came to the last set of stairs and was left standing breathless in the main hallway. Ordinarily, the kind of noise Harry was making would have roused Mrs. Black from her slumber and set her off on another tirade about blood traitors but the only sound that Harry could hear was the blood rushing in his ears and the deep, ragged breaths he was drawing. This was of little consequence to him though, as Sirius had gone. Harry turned to call out again but noticed that the kitchen door was slightly ajar, which was odd because Mrs. Weasley always closed it at night. Venturing forward, Harry pushed the door to the kitchen open slightly and stepped inside.

_Sirius was here._

Standing in front of the large table that occupied most of the floor space, Sirius looked upon Harry was sad eyes and a smile. Harry could feel the tears welling up behind his eyes and his throat constricting, but Sirius said nothing. Around the table, other members of the Order were seated; Dumbledore, Snape, Professor Weatherwax, but none of them looked up when either Sirius or Harry entered the room. Instead they sat in complete silence, totally oblivious to the world around them and Harry was about to try and talk but Sirius' gaze left his godson and he walked slowly around the table, passing each of the seated Order members in turn before coming to rest behind Professor Weatherwax. Gently, Sirius laid a hand on her shoulder and once again smiled at Harry, but Professor Weatherwax now too turned her gaze on to Harry, and that was when Harry became aware of the noise. It grew out of the silence, steadily getting louder until Harry realised that it was his name he could hear.

It sounded like…

'Harry.'

Harry blinked open his eyes to see Professor Dumbledore leaning over him, his bright blue eyes steeped in concern. Harry looked around to find himself in his bed at Hogwarts; Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean were all standing around the bed looking worried and tired.

'Wha…' was all that Harry managed to get out.

'Get dressed Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'I must see you in my office at once.'

* * *

After explaining briefly to his roommates what had happened in his dream, Harry made his way as quickly as he could to Dumbledore's office. 

'Come in Harry,' said Dumbledore from the other side of the door before Harry even had chance to knock. Stepping inside, Harry saw that Professor Weatherwax was sitting just to the side of Dumbledore's desk and both she and the Headmaster watched him as he crossed the room and took a seat.

'I am sorry for bringing you up here so early on a Saturday,' said Dumbledore. 'But there are things that we need to discuss, particularly that dream you were having.'

'How did you know about that?' asked Harry.

'Well you were making an awful lot of noise,' said Dumbledore with a slight smile. 'Mister Filch says he could hear you all the way out in the corridor, he was less than pleased.'

'Oh, I'm sorry,' said Harry embarrassedly.

'Not to worry, but I do feel that your dream is important. You saw Sirius again, didn't you?' Harry was about to ask how the Headmaster could have known about that but he realised that he had been calling out Sirius' name in his dream so he guessed it was no surprise as to who he had been dreaming about. Instead he nodded mutely.

'And what happened this time?'

'I was back at Grimmauld Place,' began Harry uncertainly. 'It was all quiet and then I saw something pass my door, Sirius. I called after him but he didn't answer so I followed him down to the kitchen. And you were there Headmaster, and you Professor Weatherwax, and Professor Snape, but none of you seemed to notice us.'

'Go on,' said Dumbledore.

'Sirius was just standing there, looking at me, but then he walked around the table and stood behind Professor Weatherwax.'

'Did anything else happen?'

'Yes, just before I woke up Sirius put his hand on Professor Weatherwax's shoulder and you looked up at me, and that's when I woke up.'

'I see,' said Dumbledore, clearly turning it all over in his mind.

'Professor, what does it mean?' asked Harry.

'Sirius Black was a good man,' said Dumbledore solemnly. 'I never wanted to believe the charges that sent him to Azkaban but he was strong enough to survive that hellish place, and it seems part of him was strong enough to even survive death.'

'But why couldn't he come back as a ghost?' asked Harry, remembering the disappointment he felt when this didn't happen right after Sirius' death.

'Not everyone can,' said Dumbledore. 'And there are no reported cases of people who were unfortunate enough to fall through the veil ever being seen or heard of again, until now.'

'What do you mean?' asked Harry.

'I know Sirius, if he could have come back as a ghost he would have but that door was apparently not open to him, so he found another way.'

'In my dreams?' Dumbledore simply nodded.

'But what does he want?'

'Why, to see you of course,' smiled Dumbledore. 'And to help. He loved you dearly Harry and that love, coupled with the strength he no doubt possessed, must have forged enough of a link with you that he, or at least part of him, could return.'

'But he never talks!'

'Perhaps he is unable,' said Dumbledore more seriously. 'Perhaps it takes all the strength he has just to appear to you, maybe that is why you do not see him all the time, he may have to store up strength for his, shall we say, visits.' Harry looked at his hands for a moment and the silence hung in the air like a velvet cloth. Eventually Harry spoke.

'I miss him.'

'We all do,' said Dumbledore reassuringly. 'I know this must be hard for you Harry, to be able to see but not talk to Sirius must cause you great pain but it is my firm belief that he is revealing himself to you in order to aid in your fight against Lord Voldemort.' At the mention of The Dark Lord Harry heard Professor Weatherwax tut to herself and mutter something that he could not quite make out.

'That, I am afraid Harry, is the good news.'

'What?'

'I am afraid so, it may not be much comfort for you to be able to occasionally see Sirius in your dreams but never talk to him but it seems clear to me that he is indeed pointing you in a certain direction.'

'What direction?'

'Mine,' said Professor Weatherwax.

'Yes Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'I believe Sirius was prophesising the vital role that Professor Weatherwax will play in our struggle against Voldemort, but this leads me on to the bad news.'

'What is it?'

'After his unexpected visit at the Halloween Ball I realised, with no small amount of displeasure, that Lord Voldemort has also forged a strong link with you.'

'But didn't we already know that?'

'Yes, but I was not aware of the extent of this connection, and I do not believe that Voldemort was either, not until recently anyway.'

'So what does this mean?' asked Harry, who did not like where the conversation was heading.

'It means,' said Dumbledore grimly. 'That Lord Voldemort has the power to enter Hogwarts when I thought we had enough magical securities in place to keep him at bay. I regret to say that I was wrong.' There was something Harry definitely did not like about the idea of Professor Dumbledore being wrong.

'So we're helpless against him?' asked Harry, who could feel the panic rising inside of him.

'In a pig's eye we are!' snorted Professor Weatherwax.

'Not at all Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'We still have the means to fight him, and with Professor Weatherwax I feel confident that we have a certain advantage, but what this does mean is that Voldemort can, and very likely, bring the battle to us here at Hogwarts.' Harry opened and closed his mouth a couple of times as he thought of all the students that attended Hogwarts, all of the students and their families. Voldemort would simply love the opportunity to cause the kind of mayhem he could cause inside Hogwarts.

'We can't let him,' said Harry finally.

'Damn right we can't,' said Professor Weatherwax.

'Perhaps I should explain why our dear Professor Weatherwax has been so vocal on the subject of Lord Voldemort,' began Dumbledore.

'Don't call him that Albus,' said Professor Weatherwax disdainfully. 'No matter how you dress him up he's still little Tommy Riddle, always will be.'

'You _know_ him?' asked Harry.

''Course I do, knew him when he was just a lad…_before_ he came to Hogwarts,' said Professor Weatherwax when she saw Harry was about to ask a question.

'Why didn't you say anything before? You knew we were fighting him.'

'I did not,' protested Professor Weatherwax. 'I knew you were fighting some bloke calling himself Lord Voldymort or something silly, but I didn't know he was Tommy Riddle.'

'But how do you know him?'

'I used to catch him scrumpin' apples back in Lancre. Nasty little piece of work he was, which was a shame 'cos his Mum and Dad were nice, hard working folk. Must've broke their poor hearts when he turned proper evil.'

'Proper evil?' asked Harry.

'People like Tommy Riddle don't just decide one day to be evil, at least not as evil as him, they're _born_ like it. It just depends on whether you decide to go professional with it.'

'So what can you do?' asked Harry, still unconvinced that the Order was prepared enough for a direct battle with The Dark Lord, but the look that Professor Weatherwax gave him said that she could show him but chances are he would not like it one bit.

'Regardless of the actual methods,' cut in Dumbledore. 'I have every confidence in Esmerelda's abilities but that is no reason to let our guard down. While it is true that our defences may not keep Vol…Tom Riddle out of Hogwarts, we have enough set up that we will know when he is near.'

'Right Albus, if you're done with me, I'd like to get ready for my next class,' said Professor Weatherwax, standing up.

'Of course Esmerelda, of course,' said Dumbledore, smiling. 'Now Harry,' he said after Professor Weatherwax had left the room. 'As for my role, I have to say I am impressed with the progress you have been making with your Occlumency studies but I would like to test you if I may, right now.'

'Why now?'

'Because you have not had time to prepare, and that is almost certainly the situation you will find yourself in when facing The Dark Lord.'

'But I promised Ron and Hermione that I would meet them for breakfast.'

'I think,' smiled Dumbledore warmly. 'That Mister Weasley and Miss Granger have more pressing matters on hand at the moment.'

* * *

Wrapped up against the cold, Ron and Hermione were walking together through the snow around the edge of the lake, which had been charmed not to freeze over on account of the giant squid. Ron was concerned for his best friend but if he was honest with himself he was glad for the opportunity to be able to spend some time with Hermione alone. 

'I'm worried about Harry,' said Hermione, her breath fogging in the crisp winter air.

'Hmm, me too,' said Ron quietly.

'Are you alright Ron? You've been acting really funny lately, is there anything the matter?'

_Look how red her cheeks get in the cold_, thought Ron. _God she's beautiful. Say something you idiot!_

'No, I'm fine.'

_Smooth._

'Okay, but you would tell me if something was bothering you?'

'Yeah, 'course.' Silence set in again as they doubled back on themselves to avoid The Whomping Willow but inside Ron's inner voice was screaming at him.

_Talk to her you fool!_

_Say anything!_

_Compliment her hair, her eyes, anything!_

'Er Hermione, I love…what you've done…err…with your eyes today.' Somewhere inside Ron his inner voice kicked itself.

'Er thank you Ron,' said Hermione. 'That was very sweet of you.' They continued on for a few paces before Hermione somehow lost her footing and fell slightly to the side, bumping into Ron.

'Are you alright?' he asked, as he helped her to his feet.

'Yes, thank you,' said Hermione, but as they continued to walk she did not take her hand out from the crook of Ron's elbow. Swallowing hard, Ron could feel the heat rising in his face and he knew that his ears must be turning pink and heading straight for red. Once again, Ron's inner voice could not contain itself.

_Are you blind? She did that on purpose!_

_She likes you, go for it!_

Stopping in his tracks, Ron turned to face Hermione, causing her hand to slip out from his arm.

'Hermione, I…err…'

'What is it Ron?'

'I just wanted to…I mean I…You…We…' Words completely failed him and his inner voice was being no help at all, it had apparently given up on him and shut up shop for the day, but when Hermione took his hands in hers and smiled Ron thought he was going to die.

'It's alright Ron, I know.'

'…You do? How? I mean…' Hermione giggled slightly before continuing.

'Ron, I'm a girl, we just know these things.' Ron felt like he was trying to swallow a cauldron sideways and his legs felt as if they would give out on him at any moment.

'Why didn't you say anything?' he managed, finally.

'Because it was so sweet watching you try so hard,' smiled Hermione, giving his hands an affectionate squeeze.

'I…I don't know what to say,' stammered Ron.

'Obviously,' said Hermione, as she leaned in to kiss him. However, just as their lips were about to touch a snapping twig sent Hermione swivelling on her heel. She managed to catch a glimpse of a small hooded figure stooped beside a tree before it darted back into the Forbidden Forest.

'What was that?' asked Ron.

'I don't know,' said Hermione. 'But we should tell Dumbledore right now.'

'Not yet,' said Ron, pulling Hermione back as she went to run off in the direction of the castle. Almost tripping on her own feet, Hermione stumbled into Ron and before she knew what was happening he had her face in his hands and was kissing her. She melted into him and slid her arms around his neck for what seemed like an entire lifetime, but the immediate danger of the anonymous hooded figure quickly came back and she reluctantly pulled away.

'Come on,' she said, breathing heavily. 'We need to tell Dumbledore.' As she started towards the castle both Ron and his inner voice exclaimed a mighty _'Yes!'_

* * *

Approaching his mater's chamber nervously, the hooded figure fretted endlessly about what awaited him. He had been seen and he knew his master would know, he always did and secrecy had been a top priority. He stopped at the correct door and was about to knock when a thin, raspy voice stopped him cold. 

'_Get in here!'_ The hooded figure opened the door and scurried dutifully over to his master's chair, where he immediately stooped himself in deference.

'You were seen!' said Lord Voldemort.

'My humblest apologies master, I…'

'_Silence!_ Do not waste your pitiful breath apologising, it sickens me.'

'Yes master.'

'They will run to their precious Dumbledore, the old fool, and he will know I sent you.'

'It was a dreadful mistake my lord,' grovelled the figure.

'Evidently, and one I am sure you are anxious to make amends for.'

'Oh entirely master, entirely.'

'Good.' With a casual wave of his thin, bony hand, the hooded figure was instantly engulfed in crippling, agonising pain, his anguished screams echoing throughout the room, reverberating off the walls, floor and ceiling.

'They will be expecting me soon,' said Voldemort to himself. 'I would hate to disappoint them.'


	8. Keep Your Friends Close

_**Title: **Headology 101_  
**_Part:_** Chapter Eight – _Keep Your Friends Close_  
**_Author:_** Weatherwax  
**_Rating:_** PG  
**_Disclaimer:_** The following is a piece of Harry Potter/Discworld crossover fanfiction; all characters and locations are the copyrighted property of J.K. Rowling and Terry Pratchett and therefore this piece is not intended for public distribution or sale.  
**_Genre:_** Drama/Humour  
**_Summary:_** Voldemort finds a way into Hogwarts in the most unlikely place.  
**_Author's Notes:_** Warning for anyone who has yet to read The Order of The Phoenix, there is information in this chapter that relates to that book.

* * *

It was the day after their fateful kiss and Ron was on Cloud Nine. Try as he might, he could not keep the enormous grin from creasing his face as his mind took him back again and again to the moment where he finally got up the courage to give Hermione the kiss he had wanted to give her for so long. Not even the emergency assembly that Dumbledore had called could spoil his elation. 

'I'm proud of you mate,' said Harry with a smile as they made their way down to the Great Hall.

'Cheers,' grinned Ron. Hermione had been in the library and so was closer to the Great Hall when the assembly had been called, meaning she was already seated when Harry and Ron arrived. They sat down on either side of her and she and Ron exchanged a quick, knowing smile. As a murmur of conversation rippled through the students, Professor Dumbledore stood and held up his hand for silence.

'As I'm sure some of you already know, an agent of The Dark Lord was spotted on Hogwarts grounds yesterday, and with his appearance at the Halloween Ball we have to face the fact that The Dark Lord has found a way to enter Hogwarts grounds at will.' Another wave of muffled conversation coursed its way through the assembly, as those who had not heard fretted over what they had just heard.

'This is of course alarming news,' the Headmaster continued. 'But it is imperative that we do not panic. Now more than ever we must band together and remain calm, losing control could well mean disaster.' Dumbledore paused for a second as he surveyed the students under his care. 'Another thing we must keep control of is information, I fear the more people that know about our current situation the worse said situation could become. This is why I will not be informing your parents of what has transpired here lately, and neither will you.' More urgent chatter made its way through the Great Hall but Dumbledore raised his hand again and silence once again resumed.

'I know this is somewhat unorthodox, but the less the outside world knows the better, that way The Dark Lord has less places to go to find things out. Also, I know it is common practise to send students home when Hogwarts is in danger but that is not going to happen. '_Because_,' he said, stemming the tide of another wave of conversation. 'If you are all present at Hogwarts then the staff can keep a closer eye on you than if you were scattered across the nation. Something could happen to one of you and we may not find out for days.' This time the conversation that was welling up could not be contained and Dumbledore stood in silence for a moment or two and allowed it to run its course. When the bulk of it seemed to be over he continued addressing the students.

'Make no mistake, The Dark Lord can and probably will bring the battle to Hogwarts, but we will be ready for him. Defence Against The Dark Arts classes will be increased and intensified, the magical securities implemented at Hogwarts are constantly under revision and I want each and every one of you to be at your most vigilant at all times. Try to avoid going anywhere alone, report anything suspicious and above all believe in the power of good over evil.' He smiled as he looked out at the scores of faces looking back at him. 'I have the utmost faith in all of you, we will overcome.' Almost total silence followed Dumbledore as he left the Great Hall, as the students tried to digest what he had just said. Professor Weatherwax caught up with him in the corridor.

'You always had a way with words, Albus.'

'I fear we have skirted the issues for too long, now was not the time for flowery speeches. The students needed to be warned.'

'Quite right,' nodded Professor Weatherwax. 'So what happens now?'

'Now,' said Dumbledore, his eyes flashing in the dancing candlelight of the corridor. 'We prepare for the fight of our lives.'

* * *

Standing in the presence of his master, fully aware of what happened to his recently deceased colleague, a loyal Death Eater awaited instructions from Lord Voldemort. 

'They will be expecting me, no doubt,' rasped the voice of The Dark Lord, his thin fingers placed together as he stared deep into the fireplace. 'That old fool Dumbledore will be upping their securities, training the little whelps harder than ever, and all for not. What a pity.' A cruel and spiteful chuckle filled the darkened chamber but the Death Eater stood motionless, his head bowed in respect.

'So to them I will go,' he said, standing up. 'But not like this.' He gestured to himself, and the Death Eater watched in silence as his lord and master transfigured before his eyes. 'Like _this_.' The disguise was complete; faultless down to every last conceivable detail, even when he spoke the voice was not that of Lord Voldemort.

'How do I look?' he asked.

'Perfect, my lord,' replied the Death Eater.

'Excellent, and now for you.' It was odd to see this unassuming figure perform such magic but when he stood back he looked satisfied with his work. 'Upon my word, it's like looking into a mirror.' Another chuckle escaped the new lips of Lord Voldemort, as cold and callous as the previous one and the Death Eater looked at his new hands, bony and thin but to him full of malevolent grace.

'Once we have him we shall wait a few hours until they are really worried, and then you shall take me out to meet them, and when the time is right I shall run for the castle, fearful for my life from the evil Lord Voldemort.' The smile that appeared on the young face was not one normally seen and the effect was somewhat unnerving.

'Yes master.'

'They will kill you Lucius, you do know that?'

'Yes master.'

* * *

Sleep was hard to come by for Harry that night, thoughts of his previous dreams and Dumbledore's speech earlier that day kept him awake, staring at the ceiling in the hopes that he would eventually tire himself out from worrying. Time didn't seem to exist for him, the minutes stretched out before him like endless oceans of time and every time he tried to close his eyes his overactive mind just would not ease up enough to allow him to get some rest. 

After what seemed like a lifetime of tossing and turning, Harry sat up and drew back the curtains of his bed, and the sight that met his eyes made him jump so much he nearly ripped one of the curtains off its rail.

_Sirius!_

Harry had accepted Dumbledore's theory of Sirius visiting him in his dreams in order to help in some small way in the fight against Dumbledore but there seemed no way that what Harry was seeing could be at all helpful.

Sirius, his eyes wide and mad, his hair all over the place like it was on his old wanted posters, was holding Ron in what looked like a highly painful grip and at his best friend's throat was held a knife.

'_Sirius, no!'_ shouted Harry, as he tried to move forward to help his stricken friend, but his feet were somehow rooted to the spot. No matter what Harry tried he could not move, instead he was forced to sit on the side of his bed and watch his godfather hold the lengthy blade against the pale throat of his best friend.

'_Sirius, what are you doing?'_ screamed Harry as blood erupted from Ron's throat, spraying out in front of him and down his pyjamas, Ron's mouth agape in a silent scream of agony.

'_NO!'_ yelled Harry, as he woke suddenly, arms and legs flailing. His eyes swivelled in their sockets for a few seconds while he reassured himself that he was only dreaming. But the thought of Sirius murdering his best friend had planted itself sickeningly into his mind.

'You alright, Harry?' It was Ron; he was alive. The curtains of Harry's bed were drawn back to reveal Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus, looking both concerned and annoyed.

'No offence Harry,' said Dean. 'But if I wanted an alarm clock I'd buy one.' Without saying another word Harry left the room and headed straight for Dumbledore's study. Knocking loudly as soon as he reached the top of the staircase, Harry called for the Headmaster.

'Professor Dumbledore? Professor Dumbledore, I need to talk to you.' After a moment or two the door was opened and before the Headmaster could say a word Harry was inside the room and pacing.

'I saw him again, Professor. I saw Sirius.' In dressing gown and nightcap, Dumbledore stood in silence as Harry continued. 'He killed Ron, Professor. _He killed Ron!'_ Tears were forming in Harry's eyes and he was pulling at his pyjamas as if they were suffocated him.

'I know,' said Dumbledore.

'You do? How?' said Harry, choking back the tears.

'I was not asleep when you called on me, Harry. I confess I had cast the Legimens spell on you and was seeing how easily I could enter your mind while asleep. I am pleased to say it was not as easy as I thought but I did see Sirius and I did see him slay young Ron in a most gruesome fashion.'

'But Sirius would never do that!' protested Harry.

'I know, I am as puzzled as you.' Dumbledore looked at Harry, tearful and shaking and rested a hand on his trembling shoulder. 'Come and sit down Harry, you could use a mug of hot chocolate and I just happen to have some of the best.' Dumbledore led Harry into his private quarters and sat him down in a comfortable armchair while he busied himself making two large mugs of what did in fact turn out to be the best hot chocolate Harry had ever tasted.

'I told you it was good,' smiled Dumbledore. 'Dear Nanny Ogg sent it along with Professor Weatherwax.' The hot chocolate did make Harry feel a little better, but the nightmare he had just had was still fresh and raw in his memory.

'I don't understand it, Professor,' said Harry, as he stared down into the rich, warming liquid. 'I thought Sirius was coming to me in my dreams to help me.'

'Well I still think that to be true,' said Dumbledore seriously.

'What? He killed Ron. He slit his throat from ear to ear. I know it was just a dream but what could he possibly be trying to tell me?'

'Like I said Harry, I am as puzzled as you are, but if his intentions were for harm I think I would know.'

'How?'

'Well I certainly did not expect to meet Sirius tonight, but when I was able to finally penetrate your mind I somehow found myself in your dreams and there was Sirius, as real to me as you are now, but he did not disappear when you awoke.'

'He didn't?'

'No, in the second or two before the dream vanished he turned to face me and I knew he could see me.'

'What does that mean?'

'It means he knew I was there and he still went ahead with his grisly task.'

'I still don't understand,' said Harry, not even allowing the thought to enter his head that his godfather could have been a murderer all along.

'Neither do I, fully,' said Dumbledore with a sigh. 'But I still believe that Sirius is appearing to you with messages and reasons.'

'But what message could killing Ron be part of?'

'Alas, I do not know, but I think young Mister Weasley could certainly benefit from the close eye of a friend.' Dumbledore laid a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder once again, his blue eyes radiating genuine concern.

'Thank you, Professor,' said Harry, smiling weakly.

'You should try and get some sleep Harry, let us hope you are done with the prophetic dreams for one night.' Harry smiled again, finished his hot chocolate and returned to his room, but he could not bring himself to tell Ron what he had dreamt. Fortunately, sleep came easily this time and Harry did not dream again that night.

* * *

Harry tried his best to keep a watchful eye on Ron over the next few days but he still did not want to tell his best friend that he had seen him get his throat cut at the hands of Sirius, even if it was in a dream. Ron was so elated to have finally admitted his feelings for Hermione and have them reciprocated that Harry didn't want to do anything to spoil it, Ron deserved to be happy. 

One afternoon in between classes Ron realised he had left the book he needed for his next lesson in his trunk, so he told Harry he would meet him there and went off to fetch it. Upon arriving in his room he found an envelope lying on his pillow, the word Ron written elegantly across the front. Smiling to himself, wondering whom Hermione had strong-armed into letting her up to the boys dormitory, Ron picked up and opened the envelope, letting the stunning spell out with it. He instantly froze, the envelope still in his hands, as a hooded figure emerged from the shadows, grabbed the broomstick that was leaning against Ron's bed and hoisted the immobile form of Ron up before flying out of the window and into the Forbidden Forest.

It didn't take long for people to notice that Ron was missing; Harry came up to the dormitory to see where he was and found nothing. Both Ron and his broomstick were gone and the window had been left wide open, soon the news was all over the school.

'_Have you heard? Ron Weasley's missing!'_

'_Flew right out his bedroom window, I heard.'_

'_I bet You-Know-Who's behind it.'_

The conversation continued as such at dinner, but was muted down somewhat when Hermione arrived, dark rings around her eyes indicating that she had been crying. Harry gave her what he hoped was a reassuring look but he knew it was no consolation. Ron was missing and the general consensus was that Lord Voldemort had taken him.

'Where do you think he went, Harry?' asked Hermione at one point during dinner, her voice strained and hoarse.

'I don't know,' replied Harry. 'I just don't know.' Dinner continued with subdued conversations happening here and there, but everyone was preoccupied with Ron's disappearance. Even Professor Snape looked worried. When everyone had finished eating and the plates and cutlery had disappeared down to the kitchens, Professor Dumbledore stood, a sombre expression on his face, but before he could utter a word a voice cut through the silence like a gunshot.

'_HEADMASTER!'_ It was Hagrid, who had not been at dinner, instead volunteering to patrol the grounds in case Ron showed up. His massive voice carried through the Great Hall and bounced off the walls as if he were the hall itself. Dumbledore stood immediately and made his way towards to main entrance, flanked by Professors Weatherwax, Snape and McGonagall, with Harry and Hermione trailing behind.

Out on the darkened lawn in front of Hogwarts Castle, Hagrid stood, lantern raised and his free hand clenched into a fist. Harry had only ever heard Hagrid shout once before, and that was when Uncle Vernon had disrespected his late parents. It was like an earthquake, it did not happen very often, but you didn't soon forget it when it did. Approaching the enormous groundskeeper was Lord Voldemort, Ron struggling in his cold grip.

'Ron!' gasped Hermione, who almost shot forward but was stopped by Harry who caught her by the wrist and motioned her to stop.

'Let him go, Tom,' said Dumbledore severely, his bright eyes flashing menacingly in Hagrid's lantern light.

'Make me, old man,' sneered Voldemort, his grip on Ron tightening.

'If you hurt him I'll…' began Hermione before she could stop herself.

'You'll what, you filthy little Mudblood?'

'Why you…' growled Hagrid as he strode forward, his black eyes gleaming with rage.

'Ah ah,' cooed Voldemort as an almost lazy hand gesture stopped Hagrid in his tracks. The momentarily lapse in concentration allowed Ron to break free of Voldemort's grip and as soon as he was able he ran for the castle, with Hermione in hot pursuit.

'_Now!'_ shouted Dumbledore, and before Voldemort knew what was happening he was hit in the chest with three separate spells; a stunning spell at the hands of Professor Snape, a disarming spell from Professor Weatherwax and the deadly _Avada Kedavra_ curse came from the wand of Dumbledore.

The silence that followed was deafening, nobody spoke and the intense quiet was only broken when Professor Snape took the stunning spell off of Hagrid.

'Well done Headmaster,' said Hagrid as he got to his feet. 'Always knew you could beat 'im.'

'Yes,' said Dumbledore distantly. 'Severus, transport the body to the Hospital Wing. We will meet you there.'

'Yes, Professor,' said Snape.

* * *

Dumbledore was silent on their way to the Hospital Wing, and he only spoke in clipped tones as they laid out the body of Voldemort, giving short orders to those around him. Harry could sense unease around him. 

'What is it, Professor?' he asked tentatively.

'I think I have fathomed the reasoning behind your dream.'

'What? What do you mean?'

'This isn't Voldemort.'

'What?' spluttered Harry, almost laughing at the absurdity of what Dumbledore had just said, but the Headmaster's face was grim and mirthless.

'Look,' he said, as he waved his hand. The prone body of The Dark Lord changed before their eyes to that of Lucius Malfoy. Harry's jaw dropped and the air in the room changed, the atmosphere going from cautious optimism to cold dread.

'Well I'll be buggered,' said Professor Weatherwax.

'Lucius,' said Professor Snape.

'Professor, what's going on?' asked Harry, who thoroughly felt as if the rug had been pulled from under his feet.

'Voldemort's still alive and in he's in this castle.'

'But how?'

'He's Ron Weasley.'


	9. The Wrong Ron

**_Title:_**_Headology 101  
**Part:** _Chapter Nine_ – The Wrong Ron_  
**_Author:_** Weatherwax  
**_Rating:_** PG  
**_Disclaimer:_** The following is a piece of Harry Potter/Discworld crossover fanfiction; all characters and locations are the copyrighted property of J.K. Rowling and Terry Pratchett and therefore this piece is not intended for public distribution or sale.  
**_Genre:_** Drama/Crossover  
**_Summary:_** There is an impostor at Hogwarts, but only Harry and a handful of Professors know.  
**_Author's Notes:_** Warning for anyone who has yet to read _The Order of The Phoenix_, there is information in this chapter that relates to that book.

* * *

Standing in the Hospital Wing with Lucius Malfoy dead before him, Harry turned to face Professor Dumbledore with a look of utter confusion on his face. 

'I'm sorry Professor, what was that?' he asked, wanting to make sure he had actually heard Dumbledore correctly.

'Voldemort has assumed the form of Ron Weasley in order to gain access to Hogwarts,' replied the Headmaster solemnly.

'But how?' asked Harry, still trying to catch up with everything that was going on.

'The Dark Lord is very powerful, as you well know, and he is highly skilled in many forms of magic that we do not teach here at Hogwarts for various reasons.'

'So he's transfigured himself to look like Ron?'

'Something along those lines, yes, but transfiguring an object or small animal is nothing like transfiguring a fully-grown human, that is much harder. The effects of the spell he has cast are similar to those of the Polyjuice Potion, except for the fact that Voldemort used a spell advanced enough to not need Polyjuice, which if you remember from your lessons takes a full month to brew.'

'I see,' said Harry, as he looked from Dumbledore to the corpse of the former Lucius Malfoy before bowing his head gloomily.

'However,' said Dumbledore, sensing Harry's anxiety that his best friend might be dead. 'We can take some small crumb of comfort from the fact that the spell Voldemort has used requires that Ron remain alive for the illusion to stay complete.' At this Harry looked up and there were tears clearly welling up in his eyes. Dumbledore smiled and placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder before continuing. 'Which is just another reason why we must defeat him, Ron is safe as far as his life is concerned as long as Voldemort continues to impersonate him, but we must act fast. Tom Riddle is many things but a fool he is not, he will no doubt be aware that I am familiar with the type of magic he has used and therefore he will at least suspect that I know he is not Ron, but what we know cannot leave this room.'

'What about Hermione?' said Harry. 'She and Ron…'

'No one must know,' said Dumbledore sternly. 'The more people that know about this the more potential danger there will be. Voldemort is a powerful Legimens and if someone not skilled in the art of Occlumency were to find out that the Ron Weasley currently roaming the corridors of Hogwarts was in fact The Dark Lord he would be able to read it in them in a heartbeat.'

'Concerning Draco, Headmaster,' ventured Professor Snape.

'We tell him nothing,' said Dumbledore after a moments thought. 'As I understand it, young Draco has had no contact whatsoever with his father since Lucius escaped from Azkaban and better the boy go on believing his father is in hiding somewhere than dead. Lucius was loyal to The Dark Lord to the end but Voldemort sacrificed him so casually that telling Draco could put the boy's life in danger.'

'So we just go about pretending like this Ron isn't Voldemort and the real Ron isn't missing?' asked Harry, a hint of defiance in his voice.

'I am afraid we have no choice,' said Dumbledore, knowing full well how hard the situation must have been for Harry. 'We do not yet know the full extent of Voldemort's plans and if his cover is blown things could go horribly wrong very quickly. As hard as it may be for the time being we have to at least make it look like we are none the wiser. It won't be easy but this will be a true test of your skills as a Legimens, Harry.'

'What do you mean?'

'As I said, Voldemort is a powerful Legimens and he is going to be searching people's minds for information that could prove useful to him, but it is imperative that you keep your mind closed to him. If he manages to gain access to your mind he will undoubtedly find out that you know he is not Ron and I cannot imagine the outcome of that being any good whatsoever.'

'But I'm not sure if I'm ready,' protested Harry.

'You have come along very well in your training and while you may not be a fully fledged Legimens I have every confidence that you will at least be able to keep Voldemort out of your head until he can be dealt with.'

'How long will that be?' asked Harry, worried that he did not have what it took to keep his mind off limits.

'That I cannot answer, but you should be constantly on your guard for attempts to intrude on your mind.'

'I'll do my best,' said Harry, squaring his shoulders.

'Good, and the same goes for you, Severus,' said Dumbledore, turning his attention to the Potions Master. 'I am sure I do not need to stress the importance of Voldemort not discovering your involvement with the Order of The Phoenix.'

'Yes, Headmaster,' said Snape.

'We can only hope that Voldemort can be defeated before he can execute his plans, whatever they may be.'

'I just hope Ron's okay,' said Harry quietly.

'As do I, Harry. As do I. Now, it is my sad duty to make the final arrangements for Lucius.'

Somewhere deep in the Forbidden Forest, guarded by several Death Eaters, Ron Weasley sat in amongst the bracken, gagged and bound, but apart from some minor cuts and bruises remained unharmed, for now.

* * *

While Harry continued to worry for the safety of his best friend, the apparent death of Lord Voldemort was the talk of the school. Everywhere Harry went he caught snippets of conversations about how fantastic it was that The Dark Lord was defeated, and it got to him so much that sometimes he felt like screaming the truth from the top of his lungs. As if listening to his fellow students rejoice over the death of Lord Voldemort was not bad enough, having to pretend everything was okay in the presence of The Dark Lord, ably disguised as Ron Weasley, was sheer torture. He could not let on that he knew and the constant urge to hex the impostor Ron to Hell and back was almost too much to bear. Somehow though, he managed to keep a lid on his feelings and prevent the disgust that crept into his stomach whenever Ron was around from betraying him. 

The very worst part was seeing Hermione treat The Dark Lord like her absent boyfriend. It had not taken long for the news that Ron and Hermione were an item to get around the school so Harry had to fight back the urge to wince every time Hermione greeted the fake Ron with a kiss or a hug.

Harry had not had much contact with Dumbledore since their revelation in the Hospital Wing, they had called a halt to their private tutorials, as Harry would not need to continue learning Occlumency if The Dark Lord were dead, and after declining his fifth invitation to a celebratory party one afternoon he bumped into Hermione near the library.

'Oh Harry, hi,' said Hermione, a small stack of books in her arms.

'Hi,' said Harry, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.

'You busy?' she asked, shifting the weight of her books to a more comfortable position.

'Not really,' shrugged Harry.

'Fancy a walk?'

'Yeah, okay.'

'Great, just let me drop these off and I'll be right with you.'

After Hermione had stowed her books in her room she and Harry made their way to the main entrance and down the lawn towards the lake. The weather straddled the line between cold and warm and a light breeze ruffled their hair.

'Harry, is everything okay?' asked Hermione after they had been walking in silence for a moment or two.

'Hmm, what? Oh, yes, fine.'

'It's just that you've seemed a little withdrawn lately.'

'Have I?'

'It's not me and Ron, is it?'

'What?' asked Harry, his attention catching at the mention of Ron. 'What do you mean?'

'Well, it's just that we don't want you to feel like a third wheel or anything,' said Hermione shyly. 'We still want to hang out with you and everything.'

'Thanks, I appreciate that,' said Harry, forcing a weak smile.

'I just wanted to clear that up,' said Hermione, smiling. 'Ron and I are still the same people we've always been.'

_I wouldn't bet on it_, thought Harry before he could stop himself. 'I know, don't worry about it,' he said, cursing his thoughts.

'Hey you guys, wait up!' came the voice of Ron as Harry and Hermione were about to carry on walking.

'Ron!' squeaked Hermione happily, opening her arms for him to run into so she could hug him. Harry did his best not to look or feel too angry as the thing that looked every bit like Ron but was not Ron jogged across the grass and into an embrace with Hermione.

'Trying to steal my girl, eh?' said Ron light-heartedly, as he slid an arm around Hermione's shoulder.

'Oh Ron, behave,' said Hermione jovially, as she reached up to hold the hand that was dangling over her shoulder. Harry just smiled.

'So, what were you guys talking about?' asked Ron, as they began to walk around the lake.

'Oh, not much,' said Harry quickly.

'Sure is good news about Voldemort, eh?' said Ron, looking at both Hermione and Harry.

'That's got to be the first time I've ever heard you use his name, Ron,' said Hermione, giving his hand an affectionate squeeze.

'Well he's dead now, isn't he?' grinned Ron. 'Nothing to worry about anymore.'

_You lying toad_, thought Harry in a flash of anger. 'Except his Death Eaters,' he said, checking Ron's expression to see if his lapse had been noticed.

'Yeah but they won't do much with him dead, will they?'

'I suppose,' said Harry, almost to himself. Walking around the lake in the late afternoon with one of his best friends and his mortal enemy was a strange feeling. The anger and hatred towards the man who killed his parents collided violently with his desire to see the real Ron returned safely and it was all he could do to not pull his wand on the boy with his arm draped over Hermione's shoulder.

* * *

Harry had faced Voldemort at least three times and encountered numerous dangers since starting at Hogwarts, but having The Dark Lord parade around as his best friend with nothing he could do about it was quite possibly the hardest thing Harry had ever had to do. The struggle to keep his thoughts and emotions from betraying him was a terrible strain and by the time he climbed into bed that night he was exhausted. He fell quickly to sleep and it was not long before the dreams came. 

Harry found himself wandering the corridors of Hogwarts, fully dressed as if he were moving from one lesson to another, but there was no one else around. Every classroom and every corridor that he found himself in was totally empty. Even the portrait frames were bereft of their usual occupants, and not a single ghost appeared through any wall or door, not even Peeves who could always be counted on to break any silence, Hogwarts was empty.

Walking the halls, Harry started to become aware of a feeling that he could not shake, he was not in fact alone. The more he walked the more intense this feeling became, until Harry was circling in the middle of a corridor looking for something, anything.

_You know, don't you?_

The words came to him on the cusp of hearing, as light as a whisper but with them came a cold dread that filled his body like cold, dark ink. Staring this way and that, Harry looked wildly around for the owner of the voice but all he saw were shadows and the empty corridor in which he stood. Breathing rapidly, Harry nearly yelped the next time the voice sounded in his ears.

_I know you know._

Spurred by fear, Harry started to run, he didn't know where he was going but his instincts told him to get away from where he was, and as fast as possible. Passing endless classrooms and stairways, Harry ploughed through the corridors of Hogwarts before he collided full force with a solid object that he could swear should not be there. Sitting in a crumpled, sweaty heap on the floor, Harry adjusted his glasses and looked up to see what he had run into.

_Sirius._

Fighting back the shock, Harry thought back to the conversations he had had with Dumbledore about Sirius' recent presence in his dreams and how it was quite possibly his late godfather offering what little help he could in the fight against Voldemort.

'Sirius, Voldemort's here,' said Harry, still somewhat out of breath from his impromptu sprint through Hogwarts. 'He knows I know, I can hear him. What do I do?' Sirius said nothing, but instead smiled warmly at Harry before his body started to shift, indicating that he was transforming into animal form. Harry had seen this numerous times in the past so it didn't shock him, but instead of the shaggy black dog that Sirius usually changed into a unicorn stood where the man had been, its shimmering body almost too bright for Harry to look at.

'Sirius?' said Harry, cautiously, wondering whether this really was his godfather. The unicorn dipped its head in a gesture that seemed to confirm that it was indeed Sirius and before Harry knew what was happening the unicorn stopped low and slid its muscular neck in between Harry's legs, lifting him easily onto its back. As soon as Harry was seated across the powerful creature it took off, hurtling through the castle at breakneck speed. Sparks flew from under its hooves as Harry clung for dear life on to the silvery mane of the mighty beast and in no time at all they were out of the castle and the unicorn had leaped the stairs and landed effortlessly on the grassy slope. With not even a second's pause the animal was powering on, heading in the direction of Hagrid's cabin. Harry hid his head in the smooth locks of the mane as the cabin became dangerously close, and when Harry was sure they would slam into the solid wood the unicorn reared up and kicked the door in as if it were nothing. Looking up Harry saw Ron and Hermione sitting on Hagrid's massive bed and no words needed to be spoken when Harry saw the cruel and malicious grin crease Ron's normally amiable face.

Harry awoke once again with his sheets in tangles and his dorm mates surrounding his bed, now looking more perturbed than concerned. Harry reached for his glasses with a shaking hand as Dean Thomas addressed him with an annoyed tone.

'For God's sake Harry, can't we get one decent night's sleep without you screaming the place down? Voldemort's dead, give it a rest will you?'

'No, he's alive,' said Harry, as he flung the sweat-drenched sheets off of his legs and started towards the door.

'What are you talking about?' asked Dean, fighting back a yawn, but Harry did not answer. Instead he took off out of the room at a run, Hagrid's cabin his destination. Sunlight streamed through the windows as he bolted down corridors and staircases, almost knocking several people over as he rocketed past. When he reached the entrance hall he saw Dumbledore striding purposefully towards the main doors, wand in hand.

'Professor, it's…' began Harry.

'I know, Harry,' said Dumbledore, not even looking back at the boy. Running out into the mid-morning sunshine Harry blinked as he focused on Hagrid's cabin, sitting at the far end of the lawn, just on the border of the Forbidden Forest. He had to jog to keep up with Dumbledore's long strides as they approached the cabin and without a moment's hesitation Dumbledore flung the door wide open to reveal Lord Voldemort sitting on Hagrid's bed with a terrified Hermione sitting next to him.

'And so it begins,' hissed Voldemort.


	10. I Ate'nt Dead

_**Title:** Headology 101_  
**_Part_:** Chapter Ten – _I Ate'nt Dead_  
**_Author:_** Weatherwax  
**_Rating:_** PG  
**_Disclaimer:_** The following is a piece of Harry Potter/Discworld crossover fanfiction; all characters and locations are the copyrighted property of J.K. Rowling and Terry Pratchett and therefore this piece is not intended for public distribution or sale.  
**_Genre:_** Drama/Crossover  
**_Summary:_** The final showdown between Good and Evil proves the mind is the most powerful weapon.  
**_Author's Notes:_** I'd like to thank everyone who has read and reviewed this fic. I didn't know how long it was going to be when I started and I although I kind of knew what I wanted to happen I took the story one chapter at a time, which is why it took me nearly a year to write. Thanks for sticking with me.

* * *

'Release her, Tom,' said Dumbledore severely, his wand pointing directly at Voldemort's chest. 

'Hah, that's just what the giant said,' cackled Voldemort, glancing at Hagrid's prone and unmoving figure that occupied almost all the floor space of the tiny cabin. 'But of course he knew better than to call me by my Muggle name. You, on the other hand, _never learn!_' With reptilian speed Voldemort fired a spell at Dumbledore, but the Headmaster blocked it easily, his intense blue eyes never leaving The Dark Lord.

'Your hatred towards your own upbringing is foolish, Tom,' said Dumbledore sternly, continuing to use Voldemort's real name. 'Your parents were good people…'

'_My parents were fools!_' shouted Voldemort, his snake like eyes narrowing in anger. 'As are you! Now, shall we step outside? I want your entire school to see their precious Headmaster done away with once and for all.'

'As you wish, Tom, but let the girl go. She has done nothing to you.'

'What, this dirty little Mudblood?' spat Voldemort, sneering down at Hermione as though she were an insect. 'I have no use for her; she was merely a way to draw you and that insufferable Potter boy out into the open.' Unwrapping his skeleton like arm from around Hermione's throat he shoved her to the floor where she immediately ran terrified past Dumbledore and Harry, whose attentions were diverted from Voldemort for the merest of seconds, and that was when The Dark Lord struck.

Striking swiftly, Voldemort caught both Dumbledore and Harry with a hex each, sending them both tumbling backwards on to the lawn and splintering a portion of Hagrid's cabin in the process. Returning to his feet Dumbledore realised that Voldemort had no intention of killing either Harry or himself right away, he was toying with them for the sheer sport of it.

'You don't know how long I have wanted to do that, old man,' rasped Voldemort as he circled the Headmaster like a shark circles its prey. Dumbledore risked a glance at Harry lying unconscious on the grass. There was no blood to be seen and he seemed to be still breathing, he would be safe for now as long as Dumbledore could keep Voldemort busy.

'If it is sport you are after Tom, at least make it interesting.' Dumbledore's eyes flashed dangerously as he sent a powerful hex in just the right direction that would cause Voldemort to have to physically dodge it, and when he did Dumbledore caught him with a second hex that sent him hurtling several feet backwards.

'Very sneaky Albus, but it seems that you are about to become outnumbered.' Voldemort's lips curled back into a cold and wicked grin as Dumbledore half turned to see Professor Snape striding across the lawn.

'It is _Professor Dumbledore_ to you, Thomas Riddle!' roared the Headmaster as he flawed Voldemort with yet another powerful hex. Dumbledore was angry with himself and furious at Voldemort over him using the _Avada Kedavra_ curse on what turned out to be the wrong person so he was in no rush to use it again. He knew that Lord Voldemort must be stopped but he could not bring himself to use such dark magic again, he knew all too well that it was a slippery slope and he was not going to allow himself to tread the same path as The Dark Lord. Keeping his wand trained on Voldemort, Dumbledore watched as Professor Snape approached the scene, kneeling first by Harry and then moving to stand where he could see both Dumbledore and Voldemort.

'Ah Severus,' said Voldemort with oily confidence. 'Right on time as usual, dispose of this meddlesome fool for me, would you? I must prepare for when young Potter awakes.'

'No,' said Snape.

'_What?_' snapped Voldemort, his expression darkening rapidly as he stood to face the defiant Potions Master.

'I said no,' repeated Snape, his stance rigid and his eyes hard.

'_Traitor!_' screamed Voldemort, as he thrust his wand in front of Snape's face.

'Will you kill me as you did Lucius?' asked Snape coldly.

'Malfoy was loyal,' said Voldemort icily. 'Not like _you!_ I should have known this old fool would turn you soft.'

'Professor Dumbledore gave me a second chance when no one else would,' said Snape reasonably.

'Your parents would be ashamed of you,' sneered Voldemort mockingly. 'They had what it took to be _true_ Death Eaters, I can see it does not run in the family.'

'I have spent too long feeling ashamed,' said Snape. 'Now I will do something I can be proud of.' As soon as the words left his mouth, Snape spun on his heel, firing a curse at Voldemort as he rounded on The Dark Lord. Just barely blocking the curse, Voldemort fired one in response and backed away a few paces in order to keep both Dumbledore and Snape in his sights.

'Well, it seems now _I_ am at a disadvantage,' said Voldemort, smiling evilly. 'Lets see if I can't even things out a little.' With a flicker of his one free hand, a second wand appeared out of nowhere and Voldemort wasted no time in sending hexes and curses flying at both Dumbledore and Snape as fast as they could counter them.

As Voldemort battled Dumbledore and Snape, Harry lay sprawled out on the grass, oblivious to all but one thing, his dreams. This time he found himself where he remembered being before he lost consciousness, on the lawn by Hagrid's cabin. He moved his head and saw the familiar glow coming from the window but when he tried to stand his body did not respond. He tried moving his arms, his legs but nothing worked, he was frozen to the spot. His breathing became quicker as he started to panic, but as he was staring at Hagrid's cabin trying to think of what to do the door opened slightly and someone stepped out.

_Sirius._

Harry could not see him as clearly as he had done in his previous dreams, the inside of Hagrid's cabin could be seen through Sirius' body, which faded and somewhat solidified with a slow, pulse like rhythm. Harry remembered his last dream with Sirius in it, he had changed into a unicorn and brought Harry down here, so perhaps doing that had drained what little strength he had and he could only partially appear to him.

'Sirius…' Harry's voice was strained and he could barely raise his head to look at his godfather but Sirius knelt beside him and smiled the same sad smile that Harry had seen before in his dreams and longed to see again in real life. Sirius smoothed Harry's hair out of his eyes and just continued to smile, which Harry had to admit was of some comfort, but before he could try and talk again the world he occupied was swept away and was replaced by reality.

Harry groaned slightly as the real world swam back into line and with it came the sounds of the duel that was happening not ten feet from him. When he finally focused on what was going on, Professors Dumbledore and Snape were standing over Lord Voldemort, their wands aimed and ready to fire. The Dark Lord did not look scared and when he glanced over and saw that Harry was awake his mouth cracked into an evil smirk.

'Ah Harry, so glad you're awake. I wouldn't want you to miss _this!_' With lightning quickness Voldemort made as if he was going to fire a curse in Harry's direction but as soon as Dumbledore and Snape moved to counter whatever was cast at Harry he fired the dreaded_ Avada Kedavra_ curse at his actual target.

Dumbledore.

Acting on instinct, Snape shoved Dumbledore out of the way and caught the full force of the killing curse that racked his body and left him dead before he had even hit the ground.

'_No!_' screamed Harry, as he got hastily to his feet and ran for Voldemort, wand out.

'_Now that's just about enough of that!_' came a piercing voice from the direction of the castle, causing not only Harry to stop dead in his tracks but also Voldemort to freeze where he stood.

'_Thomas Marvolo Riddle, get here right now!_' shouted Professor Weatherwax, as she strode angrily across the lawn. Harry looked from her to Voldemort and he could not believe his eyes. Voldemort actually looked scared. As the fearsome woman drew ever nearer, Dumbledore stood up from where he had knelt beside the corpse of Snape and regarded her with a mix of fear and hope.

'Esmerelda.'

'Albus,' replied Professor Weatherwax stiffly.

'I'm not afraid of you anymore!' said Voldemort defiantly, but with far less conviction than his voice usually carried. As soon as Professor Weatherwax was close enough to Voldemort she slapped him hard across the face.

'You always were a nasty piece of work, Tom Riddle,' said Professor Weatherwax, fixing him with a sharp glare.

'You can't bully me anymore,' said Voldemort in what was almost a whine. 'You're all the same, you old witches. You think you know everything and you think you can go about pushing people around.'

'Oh, so I should be killing them like you, should I?' asked Professor Weatherwax, clearly not impressed. Before Voldemort had chance to reply, Professor Weatherwax walked briskly past him and took Harry by the arm.

'Professor…' began Harry.

'Later Harry, later.'

'You can't take him,' said Voldemort, stepping in front of them. 'Potter and I have a little unfinished business.'

'Oh shut up, Tom,' said Professor Weatherwax, as she snatched both wands from Voldemort's thin fingers. 'You haven't changed a bit, have you? You were an ignorant little bugger when you was a boy as well.' Pocketing both wands, Professor Weatherwax led Harry back across the lawn towards the castle where Professor McGonagall was waiting. Dumbledore had his wand trained on Voldemort as The Dark Lord called after Professor Weatherwax.

'You think I need wands to do magic?' he sneered. 'I have true _power_; your magic is just bullying people into not asking questions. You're nothing but a _fraud!_' At this Professor Weatherwax stopped and exhaled slowly through her nose. Fishing Voldemort's wands out of her pocket she handed them to Harry.

'I want you to do something for me, Harry,' she said, as she rummaged in her other pockets and pulled out a small grubby piece of paper and a stub of pencil. 'If something should happen to me I want you to read this.' She scribbled quickly on the paper, folded it in two and handed it to Harry, who looked at her in confusion.

'What is it?' he asked.

'Never you mind,' said Professor Weatherwax sternly. 'Just don't go reading it unless you have to.'

'How will I know when that is?'

'You'll know.' Turning on her heel, Professor Weatherwax walked back towards Voldemort and came to a stop right in front of him.

'I am not afraid of you,' said Voldemort once again.

'Prove it,' said Professor Weatherwax. Wasting no time, Voldemort hit the old woman with a curse and even though it looked like she had blocked it, her eyes rolled back in her head and she fell gracelessly on to the lawn.

'_Esmerelda!_' exclaimed Dumbledore, the shock clearly visible in his voice.

'Hah, the old bat was bluffing,' said Voldemort triumphantly. 'She should have known better than to trifle with me.'

'Tom I have never taken pleasure in the suffering of others,' said Dumbledore viciously. 'But if it takes my last breath I will _see you dead!_'

'Oh so the old man does have a backbone,' jeered Voldemort, clearly bolstered by the fall of Professor Weatherwax. 'Then lets see what you can do, shall we?' The two men began circling each other, Dumbledore with his wand pointed fixedly at Voldemort and The Dark Lord flexing his fingers, ready for the first strike. Dumbstruck, Harry almost forgot the piece of paper clutched in his hands and he nearly ripped it when he remembered it was there. His brow furrowed in confusion when he read what was written on the paper:

_I Ate'nt Dead_

Looking back up at Dumbledore and Voldemort and then to the crumpled heap that was Professor Weatherwax he started at her in the hope of seeing some movement but there was none. With Snape's body lying close by, Dumbledore and Voldemort continued to stare each other down, the hatred between them palpable.

'Get ready, old man,' sneered Voldemort. 'You are about to witness what _real_ power feels like.'

'There are many things that scare me in this world, Tom,' said Dumbledore evenly. 'But you are not one of them.'

'_Then prepare to die!_' shouted Voldemort. His wizened arm raised, ready to deliver the killing curse that he inadvertently killed Snape with moments before, but the curse was interrupted by the sound of crashing underbrush.

Erupting from the Forbidden Forest sprang a unicorn, its powerful muscles working underneath its shimmering exterior, and on its back sat Ron Weasley. Distracted by this odd sight, Voldemort did not have time to block the stunning spell that Dumbledore fired at him, and as the sickening realisation that he was rooted to the spot hit home the unicorn lowered its head.

'_Nooo!_' screamed Voldemort, as the unicorn covered the last few metres in seconds before plunging its milk white horn deep into the heart of The Dark Lord. Rearing up on its hind legs, Ron fell off the back of the beast as Voldemort was lifted bodily into the air, splashes of red appearing on the silvery hide of the unicorn. The high pitched scream coming from Lord Voldemort changed to a throaty gurgling sound as the unicorn shook his dying body free of its horn, his limp figure landing wetly on the ground, a spreading pool of red appearing around his middle.

Tom Riddle was dead.

So was Professor Snape, as well as Professor Weatherwax from what Harry could see. He looked at the piece of paper again before he became aware of footsteps behind him. Turning round, he saw Hermione running towards Ron, still with tears in her eyes.

'Oh Ron I was so afraid something had happened to you,' she burbled in between heaving gasps of tears. 'I'm so sorry I thought that vile creature was you.'

'It's okay Hermione,' said Ron meekly as he comforted his distraught girlfriend.

'How on earth did you find that unicorn though?' she asked, as the tears began to subside.

'I didn't, it found me,' said Ron, watching as the unicorn trotted away back into the forest.

'What?'

'Well I couldn't very well use you, could I boy?' said a voice that made everyone jump. 'I've seen more meat on a butcher's pencil.' Professor Weatherwax sat up slowly and took in a trio of slack jawed faces, all except for Dumbledore who was smiling.

'Professor? You're…' sputtered Harry.

'In need of a nice cup of tea and a biscuit, yes,' said Professor Weatherwax.

'But… how…I saw you…' babbled Harry, as he tried to maintain his already tenuous grip on reality.

'You saw me what?' asked Professor Weatherwax as she got to her feet.

'Die, Professor. I saw you die.'

'What did that piece of paper I gave you say, Harry?'

'It said _"I Ate'nt Dead"_, Professor.'

'Well there you are then.' Without another word Professor Weatherwax walked off briskly in the direction of Hagrid's cabin and at first only Dumbledore followed.

'Well done, Esme,' he said with a smile. 'Never could get the hang of Borrowing myself.'

'Yes well, it ain't for everyone,' she said as she stopped in front of the looming mass that was Hagrid. 'Would you mind? I think I've done enough magic for one day.'

'Certainly.' With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore brought Hagrid round and as the giant started to stir, Fang came out of his hiding place and nuzzled at his massive owner.

'Oh, Professors,' he said, getting to his feet somewhat unsteadily. 'I tried to stop 'im, but…'

'It's quite alright, Hagrid,' said Dumbledore kindly. 'It has all been taken care of. The Dark Lord is defeated.'

'Good on yer sir,' boomed Hagrid. 'Like I always says, there's no match for Albus Dumbledore.'

'Actually Hagrid, it was Professor Weatherwax who saved the day.'

'Well, I always knew it were a fool's errand to mess with the likes of Mistress Weatherwax.'

'How about a nice cup of tea, Hagrid?' said Professor Weatherwax with Fang nuzzling gently at her leg.

'Comin' right up,' said the giant heartily.

* * *

Three bodies were buried in the aftermath of the battle; Severus Snape was given a hero's funeral by the staff of Hogwarts and The Order of The Phoenix, Lucius Malfoy was buried in the family plot in a quiet, private affair, and Tom Marvolo Riddle was laid to rest opposite his parents grave in the Muggle cemetery near the house where he grew up. All was as it should be. 

'But you still haven't explained what actually happened,' said Harry as Professor Weatherwax packed up her belongings.

'If you must know,' said Granny Weatherwax. 'It was Borrowing.'

'Borrowing?'

'Yes.'

'But what's that?'

'You ask almost as many questions as that Granger girl, do you know that?' Her expression softened slightly when she saw the dejected look on Harry's face. 'Oh very well, but make yourself useful, I'll have a cup of tea and a biscuit, and make it sweet.' Harry smiled and busied himself with making some tea.

'So what is Borrowing?' he asked over his shoulder.

'It's when you send your mind out searchin' for another body to…use for a while.'

'You can do that?' asked Harry, the tea almost forgotten.

'I bloody well hope so, I've been at it long enough, and mind you don't fill that kettle too full.'

'Sorry,' said Harry, returning at least half his attention to making the tea.

'Anyway, as nasty a little blighter as little Tom Riddle was, I weren't about to go flinging hexes and whatnot like you lot seem to spend half your lives doing here. I knew Albus couldn't bring himself to use that killing curse again and you weren't much use. So I let him think he'd beaten me while I sent my mind out looking for something a bit more suitable.'

'The unicorn.'

'Actually first I found that brother of Hagrid's,' she said with a haughty sniff.

'Grawp?'

'Yeah, big bugger like that, perfect I thought, but have you ever been inside a giant's mind? No, 'course you haven't. Well take it from me you ain't missin' much. Minds like treacle, the lot of 'em. Oh don't look so shocked, I don't mean Hagrid, he's only _half_ giant, but those purebred buggers are thick as the day is long.'

'So you decided on the unicorn instead?' asked Harry as he set her tea and biscuit down in front of her.

'No, then I found your friend, Ron. Well I knew straight away that a skinny lad like that weren't no use to no one, but he needed saving all the same and _then_ the unicorn came trotting by.'

'But what made you choose it?'

'Well, they're fast buggers for one thing,' said Granny Weatherwax, munching on her biscuit. 'And I remember Albus telling me how Riddle was surviving on unicorn blood when he first tried to come back to life, so I thought if one of these fancy looking horses can keep an evil sod like him alive then surely they can kill him too.'

'I never thought of that,' said Harry.

'Well, that and the bloody sharp thing they've got on top of their heads,' said Granny, smiling before taking another sip of tea.

'Oh,' said Harry, sounding almost disappointed.

'Look Harry, the right answer doesn't always have to be the most fancy, or the most magical, it just has to be right. _That's_ Headology.'

'I guess so.'

'And now it really is time I was going.' Granny Weatherwax drained the last few drops of tea from her cup and took it along with the saucer over to the sink.

'Will I ever see you again?' asked Harry, turning in his chair.

'Don't know,' said Granny with her back to Harry. 'Depends, don't it?'

'On what?' Granny didn't answer; she just picked up her things and smiled at Harry.

'Goodbye Harry, you're a clever lad and I'm sure you'll do fine.' Waiting a moment or two in silence, Harry decided to follow Granny out of the castle to see her off, and when he came out of the main doors she was already talking with Dumbledore.

'It was lovely to see you again, Esme,' said Dumbledore warmly.

'You too, Albus, but I really have to go. If that bloody cat's been in my garden again I'll skin it alive.' Dumbledore chuckled.

'Give my best to Gytha,' he said.

'Will do,' said Granny, preparing herself for the short run that was required to start her broomstick. 'You know why all this happened, don't you?' she said as she fixed her flying goggles in place.

'Why?'

'Because I forgot to bless this place when I arrived, I swear my memory needs a good kicking sometimes.'

'Goodbye Esme,' said Dumbledore, smiling.

'Goodbye Albus.' Granny Weatherwax took off at a run and after several yards she was airborne, returning to her life in the small village of Bad Ass in the kingdom of Lancre.

'Will she ever come back, Professor?' asked Harry, as he walked up beside Dumbledore.

'I don't know, Harry,' said Dumbledore, still looking out over the horizon that she had disappeared over. 'I certainly hope so.'

'Who's Granny is she?' asked Harry, joining Dumbledore in looking out on the horizon.

'Pardon?'

'It's just that she told me to call her Granny Weatherwax and I was wondering if this means she has a family somewhere.'

'She permitted you to call her Granny?' Dumbledore sounded impressed.

'Yes, why?'

'Harry, it is very rare for Esmerelda Weatherwax to allow someone who has not known her for many years to call her Granny. It is quite an honour, you should be very proud.'

And he was.

* * *

It was several weeks after Voldemort's defeat and Granny Weatherwax's leaving Hogwarts and Harry was pleased to discover that Sirius still came to visit him in his dreams sometimes. The visits were less frequent but Sirius seemed to save up his strength so he could stay for longer, which Harry thought was a fair trade off. He still didn't know how Sirius was able to do what he did but he didn't much care, he was able to see his godfather and that was all that mattered. 


End file.
